


Plugged In

by SakuraMinamino



Series: ShiKahr [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bureaucracy, F/M, Fantasy, First Contact, Interspecies Relationship(s), Jim is a Swordsman, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Meddling, Online Dating, Politics, Racism, Romance, Science Fiction, Spock is a Hunter, Trust Issues, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-03-14 00:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 93,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3401606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakuraMinamino/pseuds/SakuraMinamino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock creates a videogame in an attempt to study humans to determine if they are ready for first contact. With the new opportunity to interact with the new species, he joins the game to study them first hand. </p><p>Jim catches wind of a strange NPC that hangs out in the IDIC tavern in ShiKahr. Everyone thinks it's defective, but Jim thinks it might be a secret event and talks to him. He's strange, and he's kind of cute in a weird way. Starfleet starts getting wind that the game might be controlled by people not of Earth origin, and they begin to question the creators' motives. Will Jim choose Starfleet, a faction he had sworn his life and loyalty too, or a man he had never even met face to face?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“I have to admit Spock; this project that you are presenting is quite ambitious for one of your stature.” An older Vulcan with graying hair and a weathered face, looked up from the device in his hands to stare at the student across from him.

Spock steadied his shields, not giving into his temptation to say something about the comment. Though there was no elaboration on what his “stature” meant, he understood what the professor of the Vulcan Science Academy was referring to. It was something Spock had gotten used to over the years. Although his culture lectured about the IDIC, Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, the people as a whole on Vulcan still viewed themselves superior to many other species whether it be for lack of emotional control or lack of intellectual levels compared to a Vulcan. Spock’s mother was not Vulcan and therefore he was lesser than, even disadvantaged, when compared to his full Vulcan peers. They always expected him to fail, intellectually or emotionally. Always watching and waiting. His failures or faults would always be contributed to his mother’s heritage and was to be expected of him while his successes were hollow as if he should not be capable, or what he had achieved was a pure anomaly, and he would be unable to do it again. His successes were always downplayed to no real importance.

When he managed to be accepted into the VSA, he had the failed logic to think he would be able to change the opinion of his peers. The VSA was the most prestigious institution on the entire planet, where only the best were accepted, and he had applied with the top scores in both his schooling and the entrance exam for his year. Upon his interview and acceptance, his interviewers had brought up once again that he was not one of them when they had said they were impressed that he managed to get into the institution despite his disadvantage. He had had a strong inclination to tell them that he did not wish to be a part of their establishment, but he reigned in that impulse and slammed his shields around it, keeping it under lock and key. He politely accepted their invitation. And when he started to attend his classes, he was treated the same as he had been before he attended VSA. Even though he had proved he was just as capable as his peers, nothing had changed.

Professor Sorik was assigned as Spock’s adviser when he had been admitted, and Spock had heard the whispers of how unfortunate Sorik was to have such a student to tarnish his reputation. Sorik himself seemed indifferent to the situation. Though small derogatory comments still slipped out from time to time, it lacked the conviction behind them which made Spock internally grateful. He could have ended up with Professor Stark who made it clear that he believed Spock did not belong at the VSA as Spock was not truly Vulcan.

While Spock did have a strong affinity for math and science, he had a small hobby dealing with the social and cultural customs of other alien species. 301 years ago, Vulcan had surveyed the Sol system and found an inhabited planet of a primitive species. They called themselves humans. They were violent and very emotional, and had yet to achieve warp capabilities. They had not even launched their first person into space at the time. So Vulcan had kept an eye on the planet, monitoring them for when they were ready for first contact. Not much was known about the humans past keeping an eye on their air space, but currently there had been signs of the humans being close to breaking warp one. Now there was a large debate on whether the humans were mature enough to handle first contact and new studies were being made from afar. On one side, the argument was that humans were still swayed by their emotions leaving them volatile and a large probability that they would not take knowing they were not alone in the universe well and were not ready to take the step. On the other side, there had been many races who had embraced their emotions and were very good trade partners and assets to the Vulcan society. No decision had been reached for lack of data and unfortunately, majority of the population were siding with the former argument.

“I will have to bring this to the High Council for permission to allow this level of technology into the hands of the humans.” Sorik said, handing the PADD back to Spock that contained the details of Spock’s proposal. “I do find it curious that you have chosen this as your senior project, Spock. This project is not related to your current study of astrophysics.”

“The current political development of whether we should establish first contact with Terra has presented a perfect opportunity. It would be illogical to pass up this chance.”

“Indeed, the opportunity is a great one; however, this project will take two years to prepare and possibly several years of monitoring to follow. Are you willing to put your astrophysics research on hiatus for that long?”

“Yes, I am quite certain. If the council and the academic board approve my proposal, I respectively request for you to be the project head, Professor Sorik. As department head of the anthropology department, you would be the most logical choice with your experience with studying new cultures.”

Professor Sorik lips twitched up. It was only for a moment before it was gone. Whatever Spock had said apparently amused him enough for the professor’s controls to slip. “I will have to decline your offer. I believe it would be more prudent for you to overlook all aspects of this project. It is your idea, and it appears you have everything planned out. What would be most logical is for you to oversee this project.”

Spock pushed down the urge to fidget. “I must respectfully decline the offer.”

“Is it because you have no wish to lead your own project or because you wish not to have our people know that you designed and put together this project in fear of criticism and your work being undervalued.”

“Fear is illogical.” Spock responded. It sounded automatic even to his own ears.

“Yet you do not deny it.” The professor sat straighter in his chair, staring intently at the youth before him. “I am not unaware of our people’s prejudice against you. Your work is often undermined and many of the projects you have led have found difficulties in receiving grant money and resources. Even under such disadvantages, your research has proved invaluable. This is the condition I am setting for putting your proposal forward.” Sorik leaned forward. A curious tactic to make one seem more imposing, Spock thought absentmindedly. The action must have been a remnant of habits Sorik had picked up in his travels. It was almost impossible to not pick up some alien customs when surrounded by them for half a century.

“Very well. I accept the position. When might I expect the council’s decision?” the young Vulcan resigned himself. He had been . . . confident that Sorik would accept the position. It was the only reason he had brought the proposal forward at all. He tended to keep his hobby to himself as it would reflect poorly on him due to his heritage. It could not be helped now however.

“I expect them to respond in two point five eight days. The decision will be forwarded to your PADD. If there are any additional questions, we will contact you through your Comm.”

Spock stood, gathering his bag before giving the customary parting. Sorik did the same, heading to the High Council’s chamber immediately. Rarely, did professors go in person to deliver requests. Normally, the requests were sent electronically, and it took two to three weeks for the request to be looked over and voted on.

When Sorik stated that Spock would receive a response so quickly, his hopes for the project sank. For it to be processed so quickly would indicate that his professor did not believe his project would be seriously discussed and picked up. It did make him curious as to why Sorik would deliver the request personally if he believed it would be rejected though.

The harsh Vulcan sun greeted him over head as well as the encompassing heat the moment he moved away from the building’s entrance. He descended the stone steps. His eyes searched until they landed on a woman wrapped up in neutral colored robes and scarves to protect her from the summer sun.

As if she sensed him, she turned to greet him, a lovely smile on her full pink lips complimenting her delicate cream colored skin. “Spock,” she greeted, her voice full of quiet affection. Her eyes were playful and loving, wrinkles at the corners showing her true age while the rest of her seemed timeless. That expression she saved just for him. “How did the meeting go?”

“Mother, you should not have strained yourself to intercept me. The temperature is not optimal for your physiology.” Somehow he managed to mask his concern at the angry red flush of his mother’s skin from the heat. “The maximum temperature today is estimated to be 322.038 Kelvin today.”

“I will be alright for a short time Spock.” She waved her hand to dismiss his worry as if it was misplaced. “I took a hypo before I left the house. I just could not restrain myself. You promised to tell me about your project right after your meeting.” The excitement in her voice was hard to miss no matter how hard she tried to suppress it in public.

Knowing he would not win the argument, Spock conceded to his mother’s whims. She had been patient until now. “I am fascinated with the prospect of studying the natives on Terra. Based on what we know of them, they have similar physiology to your species, Mother. I am curious to see if the social and cultural aspects of Terrans have evolved similarly to your own species. “

“Yes, I am aware,” she raised an eyebrow. “But that does not explain anything about your project.”

Spock nodded. “We have extracted holos, transmissions, and other resources to learn about the Terran culture, but we have yet to interact with them as a species. It has proved difficult to learn of them first hand without exposing that we are not Terran ourselves. Then I recalled your favorite past time as a child.”

Recognition lit up in the woman’s eyes. “Video games?”

“Indeed. I remembered that through this media you were able to socialize with others, form connections, and it was your favorite recreation without the need to meet in person. Through the holos we have received, humans seem to also enjoy such past times. After conducting 21.4 hours of research, I have discovered that in the past there was one particular game that had over 20 million users at the time ranging many different ages, ethnicities, and beliefs.

“Humans have made plans to create a system where the consciousness can dive into “the game”. They have entertained such ideas for centuries creating books, movies, and even other games of it. I plan to introduce an old version of the Dreamer technology, modified to suit the projects needs, to the humans introducing my own game. We can monitor the Terrans’ behavior, interactions, and culture without directly engaging them.”

His mother stared at him, her brown eyes opened wide in disbelief, her mouth slightly opened. “You are going to make a video game?” She said slowly, before her mouth turned into a grin.

“They are similar to simulations in my understanding of them. I have created many simulations at the academy.”

His mother laughed, a melodious sound to Spock’s ears that put him at ease usually. This time, Spock tensed wondering what he said that was so amusing for the second time today. “Spock, you are aware that video games are meant to be used for recreational purposes and enjoyment, correct? While it is true video games are created like a simulator, most of the time, it is created without any realism attached.”

“I . . . do not quite understand, Mother.” Spock admitted, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Video games can be used to live through the past and the future, but they are also used to bring the imagination to life: magic, mythical creatures, impossible abilities that you can only dream of, being lived and played through by the player; that is the essence of games. It is more than a simulation. It has story, music, feelings.” The woman stopped, looking thoughtful. “Then again, perhaps humans do not use games the way my people do.”

“I believe you might be on to something,” he said quietly, thinking back onto his research. “I did not quite comprehend what they were describing in the documentary, but your explanation seems quite similar.”

“You’re going to need a team to make this work aren’t you?”

“Affirmative. I will need to find someone willing to pretend to be human to introduce the Dreamer into the Terran society and market the game, a team of analysts to monitor the game, conversations and activity, a team to update the game and ensure hackers do not find out its origins, and a team to make the game.”

“Do you think they will allow a few friends of mine to make the game?” Spock’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline at the suggestion. “What? It sounds like fun, and I think the game will be more successful if you have a species that actually played video games to work on it.”

“Your suggestion has merit. I would still like to be heavily involved in the creation.”

“Of course. It is your project dear.”

Spock took his mother to a quiet café nestled in the cliffs a half a mile away from home, so she could hydrate herself and get ready for the rest of the trek back home. They spoke in quiet voices, talking in more detail about the project. He was entertaining hopes that his project would indeed go through, and his mother‘s enthusiasm was encouraging. She was excited. She had always supported anything he put his mind to, but this was the first time she was so actively involved and so animated over just the prospect of his idea. He wanted it to go through, just to make her proud as illogical as the feeling was.

Just as Spock stood, giving the money for the drinks and snacks to the owner, his PADD buzzed in his bag indicating a message. With a quirked eyebrow, he pulled out the device, scanning his messages.

“What is it, Spock?” His mother asked when Spock stood quietly for several minutes.

“It seems that my proposal has just finished being reviewed by the council.” Surprise slipped into his tone. He could not even bring himself to reprimand his lack of control. It was almost unheard of for any request to be processed so quickly.

“And?” She prompted.

“I am to report to the academy tomorrow to select my teams.”

* * *

 

Jim looked at his letter one last time before looking at the building before him. Was this really going to be his home for the next three years? The grounds were trimmed perfectly, the surrounding area clean of trash, with a beautiful view of the golden gate bridge. The main building was three stories high, perfectly white, with all the latest technology, and the guards on the outside were serious, but still friendly as they greeted him as he entered.

The inside was just as clean. Just beyond the entrance was the welcome desk who directed him to the apartment he would be staying in, informing him that all his things were moved in and unpacked. The halls were quiet with gray doors evenly spaced throughout. He was handed a pile of schedules, paperwork, and manuals he would be forced to read and sign before his first day started next week, and he barely had a chance to glance at his new place before being dragged out to see the program head, Captain Pike. He did have enough time to notice he would in fact have a roommate. He had frowned at that. He was under the impression he would not have to share quarters with anyone during his stay.

Still, it was a nice place to live even after being dragged to a small cramped office to meet with the captain. It wasn’t like his old life was doing him any favors, and it definitely wasn’t as luxurious as this.

He had already managed to speed read through half of the first manual when Pike entered. Bright blue eyes looked up, followed by a cocky grin. “Geez Chris, if you had me wait any longer, I might have actually finished the pile of homework you loaded onto me before classes start.”

“That’s Captain Pike to you now. You’re not that genius level offender anymore. You’re an officer.” The captain’s eyes twinkled with amusement, making his way over to the overly plush office chair. “I take it the move wasn’t too stressful.”

The young man shrugged, closing the manual and putting it in his bag. “Not really, but I was under the impression that I wouldn’t have a roommate. What’s up with that by the way?”

“I didn’t know you were looking at being a candidate. Should have known you wouldn’t turn down a challenge.”

“What can I say? If I’m going to join, I want to be the guy in charge. I want the _Enterprise._ ”

“Cocky brat,” Pike murmured a smile on his lips.

“Yet, you still keep me around.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pike waved him off. “All candidates are to be roomed with a physician to assess physical and mental states at all time. The curriculum is very rigorous. If you are chosen at the end, the physician will become your CMO.”

“And what if I really hate the guy they paired me up with?” Jim was pressing, and he didn’t really care. He was promised his own room dammit.

“There is a screening process and each candidate was paired up with a physician who would compliment them well. I think Doctor Leonard McCoy will be a great asset if not a good friend for you.”

“Riiiight. I don’t really do friends.” The young man muttered, leaning back into the chair. He eyed the desk in front of him.

“Put your feet on my desk, and I will have you kicked out of the program so fast, you’ll wonder if you ever really left Iowa.” Jim only grinned. “Between you and me, making some good friends will help you get through this program. If you are picked, and you become the first man to captain the ship to break warp one, those friends will be the start of a crew that is loyal to you and respects you.”

“Careful, you’re getting sappy in your old age, Chris,” Jim joked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about or can I get used to my new place.”

“That and to remind you that I will be your adviser throughout the program and will be here if you have any difficulties.”

“I know Chris. Don’t get sentimental on me. I prefer the hard ass military captain you always pretend to be.” Jim stood up, smirking.

“And I prefer when you don’t act like a teenager, but we all can’t get what we want.” He teased back.

“Hey, I am a teenager. I’m only 19.”

“A legal adult.” Pike countered. “Try not to burn down the labs for the fun of it this time alright?”

“Not making any promises,” the young man called over his shoulder as he headed out the door. He vaguely heard Chris muttering something about regretting his decision to recruit a teenage felon.

Jim chuckled and closed the door, heading back to the apartment/dormitory. It was going to be fun messing with Chris for the next few years, but he wasn’t going to ruin his chances here. This was going to be a new start for him. He still had doubts about the whole physician thing. There was no way they could pair him with a guy who they think he’ll get along with and have it actually work.

As he neared his apartment, he heard a low southern drawl that almost sounded like a growl coming from the room. “Damn woman! How can she do this to me? Banish me out to the reaches of space wasn’t enough; no she had to keep Jo from me too. And what did I do? I decided why the hell not. I got nothing else to lose but my bones.”

A grin pulled at Jim’s lips. The door front door was partially ajar and swung open with just a little push. Inside a man paced around the small living room, a glass bottle of whiskey in his hand. He looked to be in his late twenties. His appearance was haggard, his clothes rumpled, a five o’clock shadow steadily turning into a sad excuse for a beard, his hair was barely in any better condition. He could pass for a pathetic excuse for a drunkard if it wasn’t for the man’s eyes. His eyes were sharp when they glanced at him. Not glazed over like the drunks in his home town.

At Jim’s entrance, the older man scowled. “And I suppose you’re the candidate I’m supposed to assist.” At the teen’s nod, the scowl deepened. “Great, I’m playing baby sitter for a kid. I have hit an all time low.” He took a long swing from the bottle.

“Divorce huh.” The man who Jim assumed was McCoy sneered then took another swing. “Tough.”

“You’re telling me kid. I wouldn’t be here if there was anything left for me.”

Jim nodded, taking a step closer and stealing the bottle before chugging down a large amount himself. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be here either if there was something left for me back home too.”

“Hold it right there! You are not old enough to drink.” McCoy made a lurch for the bottle, stumbling as he did making it easy for Jim to step back and get out of his reach. “Dammit kid!”

“Kirk. Jim Kirk. Nice to meet you Bones.”

Another growl escaped the man as he tried to snatch back his bottle. Jim easily evaded all his attempts. “Don’t call me that.”

For a moment, the teen paused, considering the man in front of him for a moment. “Hey man, you’re looking a little green. You alri─” he didn’t get to finish as the older man vomited all over his front. At first, Jim only stared, a bit shocked that he did not see it coming. When the shock wore off he couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, we are going to get along just fine.”


	2. Tiberius, Meet Spock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired, I don't even know if this makes sense anymore. It stopped making sense after trying to edit it myself the second time through. I should probably stop staying up all night so I can get these chapters out.

Jim cursed, throwing his bag onto the couch, wincing only slightly when he heard the PADD inside hit against the armrest. He was too angry to care about anything for too long. Admiral Barnett had some nerve to think that he cheated. He did not cheat, his solution was ingenious. Just because he didn't understand did not mean that he cheated. He followed the parameters of the assignment. Nowhere did it say he wasn't allowed to apply his computer skills to the solution of the problem presented. Of course, Admiral Komack, the hard ass that he was, was trying to get him kicked out because of this little incident. He never did like him very much.

Running his fingers threw his hair he took a deep breath. Well, he was on academic suspension until further notice, so he might as well make the most of it. He was ahead in most of his classes and simulations. He'd be good for about a week before his grades started to suffer. It was hard to believe that in six months, the candidate would be chosen. Two and a half years really did go by fast. It had been hard and stressful, but for the first time in two years, he had some free time as the curriculum was coming to an end.

Leaving his bag and his coat on the sofa, he opened the door to his bedroom. It was neat and tidy, partly because of the lack of possessions. His closet consisted of mostly uniforms, his drawers filled with only workout clothes and two pairs of jeans and t-shirts, and his only personal possession was his book collection he started after coming to the academy. The only cluttered part of his room was the desk, covered in homework, old tests, spare parts, his computer, and lastly a helmet with a blue tinted visor that covered the eyes.

At the sight of the helmet, his anger gave way to excitement. He was free until further notice, might as well indulge. He turned on his computer, bringing up the game _Shikahr._ The game had become extremely popular over the past month as it was the first game to utilize the new dreamer technology. Though the technology was controversial, it had already sold 10 million units and rising. It was a bit pricey, but Jim managed to afford it with his meager savings. He had been skeptical about the hype, but after the first day he was hooked. He made time every day to play at least an hour.

He put on the helmet then laid down on his bed on top of the sheets. He counted backwards from ten then pressed the start button on the side of the helmet. He closed his eyes letting his mind fall.

He didn't open his eyes until he felt the warm sun on his skin and the cool air ruffling his hair. The air was crisp and clean and the familiar weight of his sword on his back was comforting. He was eager to work out his frustration on the nearby monsters.

The beautiful green grass and blue mountains in the distance was a sight to see. A quick check of his map told him he was in the Omicron Delta region. Waving his hand in front of him, a player menu appeared. None of his friends were not online it seemed. That was all well and good. He had wanted to check out the forums anyway.

He headed to the nearby town, following the stone path that lead to the settlement. This particular part of the map was monster free. A bit disappointing, but the breath taking sight was worth it. It always amazed him how real it all seemed. It was hard to remember that everything he was seeing was just data from a computer. Whoever designed the Dreamer system was a genius.

The town he walked into reminded him of 19th century England. Cobble stone roads, tall narrow townhouses with shops on the first floors and rooms that a player could buy above them. He had only been playing for a month, so he was low on money compared to the ones who either spent most of the day playing or started two months ago when the game came out, but he was saving up for a really nice place in the ShiKahr. Only the richest and best players were able to buy houses there and so far, only one player had managed it in the two months that the game had been on the market, and that was because the player had been related to the creator and played the trial version.

He had seen that player once. She had given a demonstration during an event for the game last week on the full capabilities of the battle system. The way she fought, wielding the rapier with such grace, it would make anyone jealous. Though Jim preferred the long sword over any weapon in his class, he had almost switched over after watching her. Grayson2230, or as most people called, her Lady Grayson, was a very kind woman. She was formal in her speech, which made Jim think she was probably middle age in real life, and very patient with the many questions that people shouted at her.

That was the type of player Jim wanted to be in the future if he had the time to play after the academy. A person everyone looked up to while still being good natured and able to kick ass. He was well on his way if he did say so himself. He had a built up a bit of a name for himself during the last major event.

The owner greeted him as he entered Omicron Delta's forum room called Mirror Mirror. "Tiberius, Defender of Sol, what brings you here to my neck of the woods?" The owner was an attractive woman. Dark hair pinned up into a high ponytail, fair skin, brown eyes, and a killer body.

Jim grinned at her, taking a seat at the bar. "Perhaps I just came to see my favorite information broker. How's real life treating you, Mirror Moreau?" This particular forum room was created and maintained by a player as her chosen profession of information broker. They had met when they had first started playing and stuck together until she discovered she preferred running the forum over killing monsters. She had a talent for discovering interesting tidbits about the game and other players and made easy gold off the profession as well as managing the information people posted. When it came to reliable information, he only trusted her.

The woman shrugged, bending over the bar, making her tight black leather pants show off her curves nicely. Her blue tunic was low enough he could see down her shirt. Jim did the gentlemanly thing and kept his eyes on her face. "Call me Moreau, Captain," she said sensually. "Now what kind of information are you looking for?"

He glanced down her shirt for a split second then forced his eyes to stay above the shoulders. "I seriously came just to see you," he smiled back, oozing charm. "But if there is anything interesting, I'd love to hear it."

She stared at him, looking for something. She was the calculating type, and Jim was used to such looks from her so he continued to sit there and smile. Sighing, she straightened herself and prepared him some ale and placed it in front of him.

Jim thanked her, wrapping his hand around the handle and once again marveled at the sensation of being able to feel the smooth wood finish of the mug handle, and the foam touching his upper lip as he drank.

"There is a rumor floating around about a strange NPC."

"An NPC? What's so special about it? Does it have a secret quest or something?"

Moreau shook her head, taking his mug to refill it. "He started appearing two weeks ago. He doesn't interact with other NPC's, he doesn't have a quest, and his answers to players always vary when someone approaches him, but he appears at the same time everyday for exactly 3 hours then disappears."

Jim frowned. "Is he a player?"

Again Moreau shook her head. "Player information doesn't show up. No name, no interaction options, and you never see him messing with his player menu even when he disappears. "

Jim had to admit, it was piquing his curiosity. Was it some sort of hidden event or perhaps a glitch in the system? Glitches were very rare finds in the game. Those who caught one were given quite a bit of money in compensation. "Where can I find him?"

"ShiKahr's main tavern."

He couldn't cover the wince even if he wanted to. ShiKahr was not easy to get to. The Fire Plains and The Forge were two of the most dangerous parts of the game. Out of the 10 million players, only 100,000 had succeeded into making it into the city. What made it so hard to get there was the monsters that lurked in the deserts. The AI was nothing like anyone had ever seen. The same tactic wouldn't work more than a handful of times if other monsters were close enough to witness it. They learned, and they guarded the city. Getting in alone was practically unheard of.

"Getting nervous Tiberius?" A pleasant smile crossed her lips.

"Just planning my strategy on how to get in. It seems like an interesting challenge."

"If you die, it will set you back quite a bit won't it? Is the trip worth it?"

"If it turns out to be something, it will be." Placing the money for the drink on the counter, he got up. "I'll stock up on some elixirs and items and upgrade my weapons. I should be fine."

The woman snorted. "Good luck."

Jim went straight to the item and weapon shops, buying his items and upgrading his armor and weapons, cringing at the pretty penny he had to spend to do so. "This had better be worth it."

He had planned to head to ShiKahr, much later. There was still so much of the game world to explore, and dying was never worth it in this game. Between levels 1-20 the penalty was losing one level, levels 21-40 it was 2 levels. 41-60 was 5. Once past 60, death resulted in leveling down 20 levels. The weakest creatures on the outskirts of ShiKahr were a level 70. If you were unlucky you would meet the sandworm which was a level 100. The highest anyone has ever reached in the game was a level 96, held by Lady Grayson. The second highest was a mere 71, thus why groups were encouraged in the Forge and the level down system often discouraged people from trying. Many found the bountiful activities in the towns pleasure enough with the many events, professions, and sensations. A lot of players ended up like Mirror Moreau, setting up shop and selling a service, or running around killing monsters leisurely. Only about 1/3 of the players took the game seriously to try to level up. Half of them stayed in the lower monster areas looking for easy kills. Jim wasn't kidding about the AI. The humanoid monsters were smart. He had witnessed an entire party hunted, trapped, and killed. This game was a tacticians dream.

Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, he rented a black Arabian horse. ShiKahr was a 3 hour ride from his current position, assuming he didn't run into difficulties. He was ready, he would succeed.

* * *

"Fuck! It's boiling outside!" Jin groaned, stumbling inside the tavern wiping his forehead with his sleeve. He was cranky and thirsty and pissed off. 8 goddamn hours. That was how long it took him to reach ShiKahr. The moment he crossed into the Forge, he cursed hell and back. He hated the oppressive heat of the sun beating down on him, and the sand kept getting into places it shouldn't. The miserable journey took six hours. He never wanted to see another sehalt or le-matya ever again.

At that thought, he felt a large, warm, furry head nuzzle his hand looking for attention. Sighing, he stroked the head, rubbing the sehlat behind the ear. He was only vaguely aware that everyone was staring at him, and he couldn't give a rat's ass. The NPC would be leaving any minute. He had to get a glimpse of him at the very least.

He glanced around the tavern. He could pick out the NPCs just fine. There was something about them that alerted him that they weren't real people. The races that were not available for play was a huge tip off that they were non-players. However the NPC's that were from a playable race were harder to notice. The limited interactions available when a player got close enough normally tipped people off, but you had to get close for that. Otherwise most people would just go up to them and talk and eventually the words would repeat if you stood there long enough, but Jim could spot them without interacting. The way they moved, there was just something unnatural about it. He only knew a handful of people who could tell just by looking at them. His friend Uhura was one. As she was a communication expert, that was of no surprise. She could point them out instantly. He took a little longer.

There were few players in the tavern, he noticed. Many of the NPC's were Shikahr's natives, an elf like species, different from the ones that players could choose when making their characters. They were quiet and reserved, had long pointed ears, long dark hair braided and draped over their shoulders, and a slight green tint to their skin that was barely noticeable at first glance. Their smiles were just as reserved as they spoke to one another in quiet tones. Each one greeted him with warm eyes if he got too close to them, but Jim didn't pay much attention to them. His attention landed on someone who stood out from the rest.

He was dressed similarly to the natives of ShiKahr, long flowing robes of neutral colors (in this case black with small gold accents), he had the same greenish tint to his skin, and his hair was a matching black. But there were things that didn't match. His hair was short, shaped into an outdated bowl cut, his ears were shorter than the others, very human at the bottom that curved into a point instead of the long, narrow ears that pointed away from the head just slightly and were easily visible despite the long hair, and lastly it was his completely blank facial expression. He was watching everything that was happening in the room. If that wasn't unusual enough, his movements puzzled Jim even more. He was completely still for the exception of his eyes that roamed. No player could ever sit that still, but the movements that gave an NPC away did not apply to him either. It was more unnatural than any NPC Jim had ever seen.

The man was currently distracted by an argument between two players at the bar. Jim took a few steps, planning to talk to him, when a player cut off his path. "How did you manage that?!" The player was short and kind of stumpy, the trademarks of the dwarf class, with an axe slung across his back, and a large amount of brown, facial hair despite his bald head.

"Manage what?" Jim's smile was strained and so was the tone in his voice. The player must have chosen to ignore it or was oblivious to it.

"To get a sehlat as a pet?! I never heard of anyone taming one of those things. Their intelligence factor is just too high. It is on par with humanoid monsters." The way the player talked, Jim was willing to bet that he was one of those players who played the game religiously and read every manual and forum on the game. Plus the way the player looked at him, made him uneasy. The dwarf looked at him with admiration and awe.

"Ever thought of just trying to befriend it?" Jim responded, looking back to where his target sat. His eyes met brown ones. It seemed he had gained his attention. "You can befriend NPCs and even some humanoid enemies if you know what to do. Just because it's not humanoid, doesn't mean you can treat it like an animal if it's intelligence rating is on par with sentient characters.

The dwarf seemed surprised. Obviously the thought never crossed his mind before. Jim was about to walk passed him when the player once again cut him off. "That's so cool. Hey, do you mind if we trade contact information? I would love to form a party with you."

"Yeah sure," he glanced at the NPC and was pleased that he still had his attention. Quickly, he accepted the dwarf's friend request, planning to delete it as soon as he was able, and started toward the NPC again. He was almost close enough to speak to him when his avatar froze. _What the fuck?_ Giant red letters appeared over his vision, and he groaned when he realized it was telling him he was being disconnected, and everything went black.

When he opened his eyes to the real world, he was greeted to Bones' very annoyed looking scowl. "Jim," he growled.

Jim was not deterred. He was filling pissed off himself. "I am going to kill you Bones. I was so close."

"And you've been playing a stupid game for nearly nine goddamned hours instead of groveling to your professors and the admiralty."

Jim sat up, removing his helmet. "I am not going to apologize when I did nothing wrong! My solution was brilliant, and you know it."

"That doesn't change the fact they could kick you out of the program, kid! We both worked too hard to see you throw it away for pride."

The young man cringed. He always forgot that it wasn't just his career on the line. McCoy's future rested on him as well.

The corners around McCoy's eyes softened. "Come on, Jim. Let's go out for a drink. You can flirt with Uhura, she'll kick your sorry ass, and Scotty and you can talk technical mumbo jumbo about warp theory. Better than sitting alone in your room all night, letting that thing fry your brain."

"I told you before Bones, the dreamer technology has been tested for years. It's perfectly safe." He never did understand Bones' fear of technology. "But fine. On the condition that you buy the beer, I'll go out."

"You're a complete cheapskate," the elder man mumbled under his breath but agreed none the less.

With another glance at the helmet, Jim sighed. He could always investigate tomorrow. The NPC was scheduled to leave anyway so going back tonight was pointless. Putting everything away, he got dressed for a night out. Maybe he would get lucky tonight. The prospect cheered him up and he pushed his academic suspension and his missed opportunity aside. Tomorrow was another day.

* * *

Spock placed his own helmet on his dresser, his mind buzzing from the new information he had just received. While he had been sitting in the tavern, he had received a notification of a player entering the Forge on his own. From his experience, many humans tended to go in groups in the game especially when attempting to cross the Forge specifically those who were above a level 60. There was too much to lose if you died and chances of survival increased with greater numbers. Out of all the players who crossed the Forge and survived, none had been alone.

And yet there was a human who had managed it. Not only that, he also befriended a sehlat. None of the humans in his research had ever attempted to do so. Listening to the human's reasoning, it was sound logic. What was more interesting was that the human seemed to have been searching for him.

Spock had paid little attention when the player had walked into the tavern. He was more curious about the humans who were arguing over a mate they were both seeing in real life. It was a fascinating discussion as not many humans talk about the real world. Then he overheard the conversation with the new player that entered and a frequent visitor who Spock had studied before in the past.

The new comer was nervous and showing signs of frustration, shifting often and crossing his arms against his chest in a defensive manner. When his eyes glanced up at him, and they locked on to one another, Spock's curiosity grew.

Eventually, the new player escaped the grasp of the unwanted company, heading straight for him. His eyes, a startling blue, were focused on him, his dirty blonde hair, long enough to reach his mid back in its low ponytail, swished behind him. He wore a sleeveless black shirt that hugged his torso tightly, a large dark red scarf wrapped around his neck, black gloves that extended past the elbow stopping halfway up his bicep, black leather pants, and finally combat boots. His sword was on his back without a sheath and the only head gear he could see was a thin silver head piece. It was an interesting choice of garments considering his class. He seemed to favor equipment that increased speed and intelligence rather than strength and defense.

He was curious as to why this mysterious swordsman was looking for him. Their eyes were completely locked on one another as the blond man made his approach. Then to his disappointment, the player froze showing that there was a connection problem. The red lettering appeared to confirm his suspicions, and then he was gone. He waited an extra half an hour to see if he would return before signing out for the day.

He checked the messages that had been left on his PADD and skimmed the reports of the day's findings. After only two weeks in the game, he had discovered more about humans than two months of just analyzing them from afar. His colleagues did not agree with his choice. They were content to keep the interactions between themselves and the humans at a minimum and leave the closer observations to him.

Powering down his computer, he put everything away except his own personal notes he had taken so that he may review them over his dinner. He stood, reaching out to pick up his PADD when a thought crossed his mind. Sitting back down, he pulled up a list of players who had entered the IDIC Tavern the past hour. There weren't many. 100 players in total. It was simple to find who he was looking for. His avatar stood out compared to the others. Only he had such intense blue eyes. With swift strokes, he pulled up the player's file. He was quite the phenomenon it seemed. He even earned a title among other players. Curious he pulled up the video feed of the player's actions during the Nero event two weeks ago. He watched the footage from start to finish, his evening meal forgotten.

* * *

Jim groaned, casting his sehlat a cold glare. "This is your fault you know." The sehlat, who Jim had yet to name, just looked up at him expectantly. "If I had known you were so expensive to feed, I'd have thought twice of befriending you." He threw a raw piece of meat to his companion and watching with a broken heart as half his savings disappeared into the beast's belly. This was going to be a very expensive friendship.

The sehlat licked its paws in contentment, purring in satisfaction. Once it finished, it snuggled against Jim's side with much affection. "Yeah, yeah, don't butter me up now. You're so expensive to feed I have no idea how to keep you fed."

He was in the tavern again, waiting for the NPC to show up again, sitting in the seat exactly across the spot where he had seen the man yesterday. He should show up any minute. He did hope it was soon though; he planned to meet up with some of his friends on a different map.

At exactly 3 PM, a blue tinted light appeared, sparkled, and then took form of the man Jim had seen yesterday. At first, the dark eyes seemed surprised to see Jim sitting across from him. The expression lasted only a second before going back to that blank face. He sat up a little straighter then tilted his head in greeting. "Tiberius."

His voice was deeper and smoother than Jim was expecting, and the small movements he had made were precise and inhumanly graceful. "That's me," he replied, now watching with open interest. "But I don't know what to call you."

The man went silent, taking too long to answer adding to the list of peculiarities Jim was making. An NPC would have answered already. "You may call me Spock," he finally answered, his voice not betraying any of the hesitation Jim had witnessed a moment ago. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Not really. Just wanted to talk to you," was the easy reply. Spock had yet to show any emotion besides the moment of surprise when he first appeared. It was kind of eerie.

"And you have now fulfilled your desire. Good day." There was a tone that signaled finality in the discussion. A lesser man may have left at the cold tone.

"So what are you?" He asked. Jim watched with great pleasure when that blank mask broke for a moment, startled by the question.

The man had once again gone quiet, and Jim marveled at the sharp gaze. It wasn't as emotionless as he thought. Up close he could see the calculations running through his head, picking and choosing his words with great care. "I do not understand your query."

"You're not an NPC, and you're not a player, so what are you?"

Spock met his gaze head on. It felt like this human could look right through him with the way his stare never wavered. "May I ask what brings you to believe I am neither?"

"You don't move like a NPC or player. Too precise to be human but too graceful to be NPC. You don't have a health bar or player name when I look at you nor do any interactions show up when I am near you. You are too observant and aware of your surroundings to be an NPC, but you don't interact with anyone. Plus if I ask an NPC what they are, they will tell me their class and race while you just asked me a question back. To top everything off, I have never seen a race like you, so you can't be a player. Therefore you are neither. How close am I?"

Spock quirked an eyebrow, impressed by the human's observational skills. In the 3.25 total minutes of seeing one another, he had deduced much. "May I inquire about your IQ?" he asked. He had learned that it was a standard way to measure human intelligence during one of his recordings. He was aware that a 100 was about average and a score above 140 was considered a genius. He himself had taken the test to see where he stood comparable to humans. He was curious where this human fell in that category. It would be fascinating to see if this observational human was only average or if he was above the curve.

The human became uncomfortable, breaking away his gaze. The subject was obviously uncomfortable for him. Interesting. Why would speaking of one's intelligence cause discomfort? Was his intelligence considered below the average?

"I'd rather not say," the human answered finally, keeping his gaze on the table.

"Why?" Spock asked.

"Why does it matter?" The human's tone was getting defensive. Curious.

Spock normally wasn't too keen to keep the conversation going when a human approached him. Most found him a bit intimidating or turned off by the lack of emotion. "I often find it difficult to find someone of my intellectual level who is not rebuffed by my natural disposition."

Jim met his gaze. Slowly, a smile upturned his lips, and his eyes became full of mischief. "Why Mr. Spock, did you just call yourself a genius who is trying to find himself a friend to have smart conversations with?"

The human laughed. The elfish man looked scandalized at the suggestion with his quirked eyebrow and stiff posture. "I said no such thing."

Placing his elbows on the table, hands folded, the swordsman leaned forward, his intense eyes staring at him once again with barely concealed mirth. "Well I'll tell you now; I'm not book smart or anything. I mean I got through my classes easily enough, but the books aren't my strong points. I'm more of a practical application type of man than theory."

"Yet you have not answered my question."

Emotions danced in the human's eyes. A spark that wasn't there before. "I got a 186. My problem solving skills, processing, and reaction time scores were very high. My memory, crystallized intelligence, and quantitative reasoning were just barely higher than average. In short, I make one hell of a speed chess player, but I'm not going to be a professor or make rockets."

Spock regarded him quietly, and Jim waited observing him as he did so. "I do not understand why you would be hesitant in sharing this knowledge. From my research, such a score would indicate high intelligence.

A snort escaped him. "You would think so. Believe me, no one wants a genius, and I don't go bragging about it either. It's better to easily exceed everyone's expectations than it is to try to keep up with them. In the end, if you fail to meet those high expectations, everyone just gets disappointed in you."

"You sound as if you speak of personal experience."

Jim tensed, but he didn't deny it. "What about you? What's your score?" While he waited for his answer, Jim pulled up his inventory and picked out an ale he had been saving. It materialized in his hand, and he took a sip.

"A received a 240 when I took the test." Spock replied calmly.

The Vulcan watched the human before him choke on his drink. "What?!"

"Is that not acceptable? I was under the impression a high score was desirable."

"W-well yeah, but. . . No human has ever scored that high. 223 is the highest ever obtained." Jim used his glove to wipe his mouth. Sadly, that was a waste of good ale.

Spock stared at the movement as if he was puzzled. "Would a napkin not be a better choice?"

"Probably," Jim grinned. "But I don't see one around. Do you?"

Spock looked around to confirm that there was indeed no napkin then, without pulling up a menu, one appeared in his hand.

Jim looked dumbstruck. "What are you?"

"Have you named him?" Spock asked suddenly, making Jim play catch up to the conversation. He followed the man's gaze to his sehlat.

"Nah, I'm not good with naming stuff. I was thinking of just naming him Sehlat. Simple and easy to remember." Jim's pet did not seem to agree as it set a dark glare at him then proceeded to tip over the rest of his ale with a flick of its tail. "Ah, come on! That was expensive!"

"I do not believe your sehlat is content with such a name." There seemed to be amusement in Spock's voice.

Jim picked it up immediately. "Oh yeah," he said playfully. "What would you call him?"

Another long silence from Spock. It appeared Jim was getting used to it. As he waited he noticed how much attention he had gained from other players. That was annoying. If they wanted to know what Spock was so bad, they had plenty of opportunity before he arrived. "I would name him I-Chaya."

"I-Chaya, huh." Spock looked stiff. Well, stiffer than usual. He looked nervous actually. "I like it. It kind of fits the game." I-Chaya purred happily at the name as well, settling on the ground. For a bear looking animal, it acted more like a cat. "I don't know how long I can keep him though. He eats only high grade meat, and I found out today that he gets in a pissy mood if you don't feed him. I nearly died."

Jim might have imagined it, but he swore he saw Spock's lips twitch up for a second. "You do not have money?"

"I spent a lot of it on potions and items to get to ShiKahr. Then I needed to buy a small place for I-Chaya to stay at, and I wasn't exactly wealthy before all this."

"Indeed. " The human absentmindedly started petting I-Chaya.

"So . . . are you a hacker?"

"You are quite persistent on this matter."

"You keep avoiding the question."

"Perhaps." This time, Jim knew he wasn't imagining it. Spock was definitely amused, though he tried hard to hide it behind his mask. "I can assure you. I am not a hacker."

"Alright." The Vulcan watched the wheels turn in his head. This human was quite expressive. He had never seen it up close before. The way his features conveyed every emotion, changing so quickly and freely. He had only seen it in his mother before.

Before Jim could ask another question about his identity, a message popped up in front of him. _Spock would like to join your friends list._ He doubled checked and sure enough, Spock had not opened up a menu to send the request. _What the hell, why not._ He clicked accept.

"It was gratifying to meet you Tiberius, however I must leave. If you wish to speak with me, you may use that as a means of communication."

"I see how you're getting out of answering my questions."

"Peace and long life," the man said as if Jim hadn't spoken.

"I'm not going to give up finding out what you are."

Spock lip did twitch up this time. "I will inform you when I discover the answer myself." And with that, he disappeared in the same manner he had appeared, in a sparkling blue light.

The alarm beeped in his ear, telling Jim that it was time to log out anyway before his roommate decided to disconnect him again. He made sure I-Chaya returned to the small hovel he bought. The amount of money he spent on the confining studio that only fit a bed, a desk, and a two person table was equal to a lovely two bedroom house anywhere else. It didn't even have a kitchen which was a shame. He was hoping to increase his cooking skill. He opened the menu to log off when he saw another message in his inbox. It was from the administrators. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to look before he left, he opened it.

**Congratulations! You are the first player to befriend a wild sehlat. Attached is your reward.**

Puzzled, Jim opened the attachment and gaped. He had received 99 raw hide for I-Chaya and 500,000 gold for himself. The amount pretty much covered the housing he had been forced to buy. "Looks like you lucked out buddy. Guess I have no choice but to keep yah." The sehlat just looked at him like he was an idiot then proceeded to make himself comfortable on the bed. Jim chuckled. It was like a big moody teddy bear. Kind of like Bones actually. With the thought of his best friend, Jim logged himself off. He couldn't afford being attacked twice in the same day.

* * *

"I apologize for being late Mother. There was a matter I had to attend to before I was able to call you." Spock sat in front of the computer screen, taking in his mother's long brown locks and light t-shirt and jeans. She seemed healthy. "Are you well on Earth?"

The woman laughed, her eyes brighter than Spock had ever seen them. It was strange to see his mother without so much protection, both emotionally and physically. She seemed unrestrained. "Earth reminds me much of my own planet, though their technology is a bit back water. I went to a concert yesterday. It was most pleasing. Earthlings have such strange taste in music and it was most refreshing, and I went to the library to checkout as many books on their history as I could. It's very fascinating Spock. I wish you were here."

"You seem quite happy Mother. Earth seems to be quite agreeable with you."

His mother's bright eyes dimmed as she regarded her son. "It is nice to have a break from Surak's teachings, but Earth does not have you here. I will be happy to return and see you again." She gave him her soft motherly smile. "How was your day?"

"I met a human."

His mother's eyes widened in surprised. "Really? And what did you think?"

A memory of those intense, playful, blue eyes entered the forefront of his mind. "I believe I have found a human who will make a most fascinating case study."


	3. Lesson One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leonard Nimoy, I could not begin to tell you how much Spock meant to us. His struggle between two worlds, his fascination for science, his curiosity for knowledge, the ambition to discover the secrets of the universe, and the love for his friends inspired us to be better. He was more human than most of us could ever dream of being. You will always be remembered. As a actor, writer, director, and photographer, the lives you touched will have you live on through the scientists you inspired to reach into space, through those who cannot explore the world for themselves, and through those who saw Spock as someone they could connect with. You will live on, and you will be loved and missed. 
> 
> God, one to beam up. It's time for Mr. Spock to go home.

Jim couldn't have stopped himself from coming even if he wanted to. After meeting the mysterious man yesterday, his imagination ran wild on every possible scenario that could explain what Spock could be. There were just too many things that did not add up to any one solution. And though he hated to admit it to himself, he actually had fun talking to him. The only other person he had ever warmed up to so fast was Bones. He was always attracted to people who were what others would call strange.

So he found himself sitting in the exact same seat as the day before, waiting for Spock.

"Hey," Jim grinned as Spock materialized in front of him.

To Jim's disappointment, Spock did not seem surprised or at least he didn't show it. Spock seemed stiff and extra stony today. "Tiberius, I did not expect you to seek me out so soon," his voice was tight, the human decided, frowning.

"I told you I wouldn't give up finding out what you were," he kept his voice light, hoping to coax some of that emotion he had seen yesterday to come out.

"I do not have an answer to your query," Spock responded. It sounded too mechanical even for him.

His frown deepening, Jim looked over Spock again. His body was rigid, his back perfectly straight, his hands clasped tightly, and his voice carefully even and toneless. It seemed like he was over compensating for something. His eyes were the only thing soft about him. They seemed tired as they settled at Jim's side, looking for something. No doubt I-Chaya. The elf-man really seemed to like the beast.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jim asked softly. The question was the wrong thing to ask. Somehow, Spock closed himself off even more. His tired eyes turned cold and matched the rest of him.

"I am in perfect health," was the emotionless reply.

"That may be, but how are you feeling?"

Yup, wrong thing to say. Spock was not even looking at him anymore. _Okay, first lesson in Spock 101. Do not ask anything related to his feelings._

"I do not feel; therefore, your question is irrelevant."

"I am calling bullshit on that," Jim said, cursing when the man in front of him grew more distant. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it that's fine. I hate people asking how I feel too, but sometimes all you need is for someone to notice, or in other cases, not notice and just be there to keep you company and cheer you up."

Spock kept his gaze elsewhere for some time. Jim waited for him to figure himself out. "I do not understand how bull excrements could be on something that does not have physical form such as words."

Jim gaped a few times unsure what to say about that exactly. "It's . . . it's not supposed to be taken literally, Spock. It's a figure of speech. It means that I don't believe what you're saying."

"Then why do you not just say so in the first place to avoid confusion?" Spock asked. If it wasn't for the fact that he actually looked confused, Jim would have thought he was being snarky.

"It's colloquial. It's used so often, everyone pretty much knows what it means if someone uses it like that."

There was a slight downturn of Spock's lips and his eyebrows drew together in concentration. Jim was definitely counting that as a victory. "The human language is very imprecise."

The human frowned himself at the comment. It sounded as if Spock was not considering himself human. Was he not a person after all? "Humans are very imprecise creatures."

"It seems I have much to learn when it comes to human colloquialisms."

"Yea─, wait a minute, you're avoiding the topic again. Stop doing that!" Though Jim said that, he felt himself relax seeing that Spock seemed more at ease. He had been getting a crick in his back just watching how straight Spock had been sitting.

"I had not been avoiding any question. You stated that if I did not wish to talk about it then I was not required to. I did not wish to talk about it, so I changed the topic," he said calmly.

"Smartass."

Again, that look of confusion. "I will not argue that I am indeed intelligent, but why would you refer to me as an animal suited for manual labor? Or are you using the colloquial definition? Then I must inquire why you would refer to me as an intelligent gluteus maximus."

Jim stared blankly before bursting out laughing, drawing attention to himself. "Come on. You're kidding right?"

"I assure you, I am completely serious." With the slightly defensive tone in the man's voice, Jim took pity on him and forced himself to stop laughing.

Instead of explaining himself, the swordsman stood, drawing his weapon. "Have you ever played the game before?" He paused for a moment then reconsidered his question. "I guess I should ask can you play the game first since you refuse to tell me what you are."

"I can play if I wish to, but I have not played before."

"Great!" He made his way over to the other side of the table, wrapped his hand around Spock's bicep, taking a moment to realize he was leaner than he thought, and yanked him up from his seat. "Let's see how smart you are."

Spock tried to pull his arm away and found out he could not. Not because he lacked the will to. No, it was much more complicated than that. He had yet to play the game. As he only plugged in to observe human behavior, he had not set any parameters for his avatar. So as far as the game was concerned, he was a level one with attributes suited for a Vulcan. Tiberius was a much higher level, so he had much more strength over him. That was definitely an oversight he would correct in the future. "I would request that you release me. I am capable of standing on my own," he said tightly. His eyes were glued to where Jim was touching him.

Jim removed his hand and already moving towards the exit. "Hurry up then. We need to head to the weapons shop and get you some beginner level armor and weapons."

When Spock stepped away from the table, the bar became unnaturally quiet. Every player in the room was watching him in a mixture of awe and surprise. Their gazes had Spock once again drawing into himself, so Jim took it into his own hands. "Is there something I can do for you?" He asked coldly. "'Cause I'm not afraid of doing a bit of PK if you can't keep your business to yourself."

Most of the players looked away while some others glared at his rudeness. They could fuck themselves for all he cared.

"What does PK mean?" Spock's voice pulled him out of his musings.

"Player Killing. It's not something I tend to do unless they try to kill me first. There are some assholes out there that focus solely on that just to ruin a person's day since the level down system can be brutal. They'll kill you and stand at the respawn point and do it over and over.

"Why would humans engage in such an activity? It seems counterproductive."

Staring at the sand, Jim shrugged. "It's a game. Here no one knows who you are in real life and bad actions against another person won't cause real life consequences. Some people will take advantage of that. They will use their anger, frustration, or need to hurt others here where they can't get into major trouble. "

Spock walked beside him matching him step for step. "And what are your views on such actions?"

When the human didn't answer right away, Spock glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Jim's shoulders were slumped, his feet dragging, kicking up dust as he walked. "Tiberius?"

"I prefer them taking their anger out in the game instead of in the real world, but I still don't like it," his voice was quiet and small, a stark contrast to his normal state. "Bullies, terrorists, I think they're cowards. People who can't accept the way their life is so they take it out on others forcing people to feel the same as they do. My father . . . ." He stopped himself. "Nevermind. We're here anyway."

Spock was ushered into the store. It was a player owned, so while Spock looked at the different choices of armor that the blacksmith could create for him, Jim was haggling.

"Give the guy a break. He's new."

"Look here brat, any player that manages to get to ShiKahr isn't new, and even if he was new, these are custom made objects. Better than anything you can get from an NPC store." The man who owned the shop was tall and burly and generally looked pissed off.

Jim rolled his eyes not intimidated at all. "Why do you think I came here instead of one of those shops?"

"Tiberius, if you are worried about money, it is of no consequence. I can provide the funds for my own equipment."

He had meant to reassure Tiberius. The fighting really wasn't worth it. Instead he got a glare. "No."

"No?" A raised eyebrow.

"No. You are going to start with the same amount of money everyone else does, which is 5,000 gold."

"I do not understand why I must limit my funds when I have the money."

"And how much is that exactly?" Spock's silence was more than enough to confirm his suspicions. "You don't have a limit do you?"

" . . . I do not."

"Don't you think it's kind of cheating? If you're going to play, play it right. Now stand on the platform. I'm going to choose your equipment and class."

Spock gave him a look of incredulity, the way he quirked his eyebrow at him. "May I ask how you can choose my class?"

"Easy. I tell you what to choose, and you'll choose it 'cause I told you to."

"That is very presumptuous of you."

"Yet you didn't say you weren't going to do it." Jim grinned. Walking over to the panel, Jim scanned through the items.

"May I ask an inquiry?" Spock asked while looking curiously at the raised platform surrounded by three mirrors.

"Go right ahead," Jim murmured obviously distracted with the selection.

"Where is I-Chaya? Did you decide to release him after all?"

Jim didn't look up, but he was smiling. "I was wondering when you were going to ask about him. You were looking for him earlier." Chewing on his lower lip in concentration, he pulled up the specs for a weapon. "I am letting him wander the city. He gets too cooped up in that small room all day. He'll come when I call though." His eyes lit up. "I got it! You're going to be a hunter class."

"I would prefer not to be a class where the title depicts me actively harming other living creatures."

"You do realize this is a game right?" With a shake of his head, he dismissed it. "Don't worry. I think it will suit you. You're smart, and I think you'll be pretty agile." Jim glanced over him. The body Spock had was lean and his movements were pretty damn graceful. It would indicate the character he chose or created had high dexterity.

All races chosen had starting values. Humans had more strength than elves, but lower dexterity. Dwarves had higher defense over both but lower magic. All 8 races had varying starting statistics based on their physical structure. Choosing classes enhanced those attributes and complimented the race. As Spock closely resembled an elf, Jim was betting on his statistics to be similar to the elven races. "Could I see your beginner stats?"

Spock didn't answer, but Jim's menu popped up showing his friends list with Spock's name highlighted. It proceeded to open and show stats that were not there a few minutes ago. Jim glanced over the stats. He was right in one respect. His dexterity, stamina, and spirit were high as he suspected, but his strength, magic, and defense weren't too far either. Everything was skewed. Any class would fit him it seemed. After another minute, the stats changed. His dexterity and spirit stats rose several points, his strength three, and his stamina one. His magic went down 3. Obviously, he had switched to the hunter class like he asked. Well the only stats that mattered were the ones he was actively going to be using often anyway.

"Is that satisfactory?" Spock asked. His clothes had switched to the starting equipment which barely qualified as dirty rags in Jim's opinion.

"Very. Now, it's time to dress you." Jim selected several items on the panel and watched as the rags were replaced with a different ensemble. Spock was now wearing a white, long sleeve shirt, with a brown leather vest over it, black leather pants that accentuated the curves of his ass and legs, boots that came up to just below his knee, and instead of a head piece, he had silver earrings that coiled into a fluid shape three sharp protrusions jutted out from it circular curve, and a blood red gem dangling from the end. Jim's mouth went dry at the sight. Those ShiKahr robes had done nothing to show off his body, so Jim never noticed, but Spock was quite attractive.

Spock in question looked uncomfortable, going as far as shifting multiple times in small increments as to not draw attention from the casual observer.

"You look good Spock." He felt like he had to soothe the poor man. He looked completely out of his element.

"I have never worn garments such as these before. They are . . . more confining than what I am used to."

Jim almost smiled at how Spock looked like he wanted to fidget. "You'll get used to it. Do you think I walk around public wearing this?" He vaguely gestured to all of himself. "Which reminds me, we're changing your hair. I just can't get past the bowl cut."

"I do not see a problem with my current hair style. It is practical."

"Practical, but not sexy. It's a game. You can be whoever you want to be." Jim jumped up onto the platform.

"I am noticing that I have little say in whom I am to be." When Jim's hands touched his hair, his body went rigid.

Jim made a mental note that Spock did not like being touched. His gloved hands pushed Spock's hair back, using styling gel that allowed him to change his hair when he pleased, slicking his hair back. He frowned and let a few of those strands fall. It gave Spock a sophisticated yet dangerous look combined with his normally acute gaze. He would either instigate fear in others or have them fall all over him with such a look. "If you didn't like it, you wouldn't let me do all this. Besides, you look like a sexy pirate. The girls will love it."

Jim left the platform planning to negotiate for the cost for a decent starter weapon for Spock. The owner was proving quite stubborn though.

"The normal beginner's weapon is more than adequate to start off with Tiberius."

"Tiberius?" The owner looked at the swordsman before him in a new light as recognition hit him. "As in Tiberius, Defender of Sol?" As if his hands were dirty, the blacksmith wiped them on his apron before taking Jim's hand and shaking it with vigor. "It is an honor to meet you. I've been following your progress since the Nero incident. I was on the Farragut team. You totally saved our hides."

A nervous smile made its way on Jim's face as he tactfully removed his hand. "It was no problem. Really."

"Tell you what. I'll make the best weapon someone of his level can use. And I'll do it for 300 gold."

While he did hide the wince, Jim considered giving up his own money for it. It wasn't that it was a bad price, hell it's one of the best prices anywhere even for the cheapest weapons. It was just he was hoping to bargain a decent bow down to a 100. Spock only had 200 gold left after buying cheap leather armor, and he had said he wanted Spock to use only the beginner money to make the game fair. Not to mention he had to actually buy arrows to use.

"Perhaps, we can trade items?" Spock suggested, taking a position just off to the left and behind of Jim.

Of course, how could he forget? Spock now had useless starter clothes he could now trade in his inventory. They made a quick exchange, Jim giving up ten potions (he planned for Spock to keep a few), and Spock giving up his ragged clothes. Jim immediately trashed them while Spock sold off five of the potions to meet the price.

Smiling, the blacksmith headed to the back to pick out the materials he would need to create the bow. The entire process took ten minutes. Jim took to looking through the available weapons available while he waited. Spock spent the time sitting quietly and watching him. It always amazed him that humans had trouble sitting still. This human in particular seemed even less inclined to do so. Even sitting still he radiated energy. He would adjust his position approximately every 16.4 seconds. When he spoke, he was even more animated, using his hands to gesture to what he was speaking about or leaning forward to persuade him of something or relaxing when the conversation was casual. Standing he was constantly in motion: walking, observing, touching. It was fascinating to watch.

The blacksmith reappeared with the bow. The wood had a beautiful silver hue and intricate designs carved into it. The symbols must have meant something to Spock because he tentatively ran his fingers over the design.

"It's a long bow obviously. Normally I don't sell this model because it requires a certain amount of strength to use it that is abnormally high for most species who would be looking for a hunter's weapon. Its attack power is very high because of it though. The reload speed depends on your strength as well, but it's durable and light weight, so it shouldn't need repair often, and it won't affect your speed at all.

"Looks like you lucked out Spock," Jim patted his shoulder, taking a look at the bow. It was very beautiful, artfully crafted too. "Let's get ready to go. You only have about two hours left right?"

"Indeed."

"Then let's head to the transporter pad. I already bought our crystals."

* * *

Jim had chosen a map where not many beginners tended to go. It was a swampy area, thick green water, trees so large and tall that the leaves covered most of the sky. The trees' roots were wide and interweaving, disappearing under the murky water. It was an unpleasant map to be in. The feel of water seeping into your boots tended to be uncomfortable not to mention the humidity that stuck like a second skin. It was not a pleasant feeling. Thus, people tended to avoid it. Luckily, the sensations vanished once the source was removed, and there was no sweating involved.

"Alright. Here is a good place to start." Jim waded into the water. "This place is ideal for hunters to level up. Since you have a long range weapon, you don't have to move as much, so you won't startle the target."

Spock eyed the water. He didn't look too keen on getting wet. After an internal debate, Spock followed.

Jim grinned at him, pulling him forward. "See that reptile over there?" About 30 yards away, a green lizard similar looking to a gecko except for its spiky tail and the size of his forearm, was sunbathing on one of the roots that were exposed above water. "The battle system is designed to be as natural as possible. Whenever you draw your weapon the targeting system engages." He waited for Spock to pick up his bow and notch his arrow. "You're eyes are going be used to find your target. Look at the place you want to target and keep your eyes there until it locks on. The higher your level the faster it is to lock on. As you practice more with the system, you'll learn to lock and relock better."

"I do not wish to harm a life form even if it is only a simulation." Spock said.

"That's alright. We're just going to stun it." Jim proceeded to inform him how to select special skills. In this case, a stun attack.

Spock was still hesitant, but he aimed his arrow at the creature's torso and let the arrow fly. The arrow hit. On contact, the arrow exploded in a blue light. A high pitch squeak escaped the creature as it rolled off the root into the water with a small plop.

"Good. We'll practice a few more times on the gecko looking things then we'll go to the real monsters."

Spock didn't inform Jim that he knew how the battle system worked or how to get around some of the limitations of the reloading system that anyone could figure out if given the time. His mother had. He had a feeling Jim knew as well, but he didn't comment on that either. He let Jim explain, walking him through it in simplified terms that anyone could understand. Though simplified, it didn't detract from the explanation, still detailed in its delivery. He also noticed that Jim gave him enough information to figure some things out on his own, trusting that Spock did not want to be spoon fed every detail. Spock found his explanations intriguing and quite satisfying, so he let the human teach him about his own game.

They hunted four more geckos before moving onto a more aggressive species that resembled crocodiles. They would charge at them, Spock would stun them; Jim would casually walk up to them and kill them with a single swing of his sword. Spock leveled up four times during the exercise, the process slower due to splitting the experience points between them. The Vulcan found he was hesitant to tell Tiberius that it was time for him to leave. The fact unsettled him. It was not logical to be hesitant when he had duties to attend to in the real world.

"It's time for you to go isn't it?" Jim asked. He was crouched beside their latest kill collecting items, giving most of them to Spock.

"Affirmative."

Together they marched out of the water onto soggy soil that dipped under their weight. Stopping and turning on his heel, he faced Spock, a lopsided grin on his lips. "So this was fun. Same time tomorrow?"

Something shone in Jim's eyes, an emotion Spock could not give name too. "I will be waiting at the Ferengal Inn at the usual time."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," Jim winked at him.

Spock wanted to ask what that meant, but he had already delayed long enough. T'Pring was not a patient woman. With an inclination of his head, he logged out.

A minute passed. Then two. Why the hell did he wink at Spock? It did not make any sense. Maybe it was to get a response out of him. He enjoyed seeing his looks of confusion, amazement, wonder, curiosity. There were barely noticeable and brief, but he had seen them. He could feel. Jim knew he did, had seen it with his own eyes. But he was holding back, always correcting himself, schooling his expressions when he caught himself, but his eyes betrayed him. He could never hide the curiosity beneath those brown eyes.

He took a deep breath. He had to head back anyway and read through class materials if he wanted to keep up in his class work. If he returned to class that is.

Jim made his way out of the Mayak Swamp, making his way to Ferengal following the path. He thought of his lesson with Spock. The elf was a quick learner, or at least Jim was going to call him an elf. He had no name for Spock's race, but he was everything he imagined an elf would be: lean, graceful, majestic even. The way he moved, stalked his target was exhilarating. There was something primal under all that logic and stoicism. Jim only saw a hint of it. Right before Spock released an arrow, it was there, lying in wait to be released, and then it was gone like it was never existed.

As their lesson progressed, Spock had relaxed. He was more comfortable handling his bow, the hesitation lessening as time went on. Jim might have even started to enjoy himself towards the end. A smile crept up on him, and he couldn't stop. This was going to be most interesting.

* * *

She was waiting for him, as he had suspected, in the lounge of his father's home, drinking tea. T'Pring, from the House of Soren, was she who was to be his mate. She was aesthetically pleasing, her movements as fluid as water, her posture perfect, and kept her face perfectly blank. She was the perfect Vulcan. Everything his father and he wished he would be.

At his entrance, her dark eyes looked up at him. Her eyes were piercing and often her gaze made Spock feel exposed. That didn't change even as she stood and greeted him. Such stillness, even as she stood. A stark contrast to his companion earlier that evening. "T'Pring."

"Spock, you are late for our meeting." Her voice, like the rest of her, was perfect as it was toneless, no emotion to indicate what she was feeling.

"My experiment required more time than I had anticipated," he simply explained.

"Of course." She sat herself back down and waited for him to do the same. "Your research has made you quite well known to our people Spock. Much lies on the results of your research when it is presented to the council."

"I am fortunate the council saw the logic of my proposal. It was only one solution to the problem presented."

"Indeed." She picked up her tea, taking another sip. He was careful to keep his face blank, his emotions locked up behind his shields. For once, he wished she was human just so he would have a hint of what she was thinking, the purpose of the visit instead of waiting for her to tell him. The thought disturbed him. Patience was a fundamental Vulcan principle. He should not be so impatient. "You will become a legend among our people, Spock, and I do not wish to be consort to legend."

A part of him went cold to what she was implying. "You do not wish to be my bondmate if my research proves to be successful."

"When the time comes, I will invoke koon-ut-kal-if-fee and divorce you," she said simply.

"And who have you selected to be your champion if I may inquire?" He would be proud at how neutral he sounded if he was allowed to feel such things. Instead, he watched her place her cup on the low table before her.

"Stonn is of good family, and he wants me."

"And you want him," Spock finished for her.

She looked indifferent to the interruption, and she continued as if he did not speak. "While Stonn is ambitious, you are more so. You aim very high and everyone knows this."

In a weird way, it was a compliment from her. The only compliment he had ever received from her. It did not appease him however. "You would leave me when I am suffering in the fires of pon farr?"

That did receive a reaction, but not from guilt. It was as if Spock had said something vile, like just hearing the word pon farr would dirty her someway. As everything, she soothed her features, hiding her feelings behind the Vulcan mask.

"I am giving you warning, so you may make preparations to find another, so that you will not have to take the challenge."

"And disgrace my house by refusing." He replied in equally measured tones.

"You will not take the challenge," she repeated, her voice authoritative. Spock was not fond of her when she would speak to him as if he were a child. "You are from a distinguished house. Your work is well known and used as a basis for many experiments. Despite your heritage, I am certain you will find an unbounded female willing to bond with you or a male if no others appear. You have options."

There was no point in debating with her. She had already made up her mind and Spock knew she was stubborn. No one could outdo her logic. "I do not require your reassurance. Is this the only purpose of your visit?"

"I also came to inform you that I will be taking command of the analysis team for the First Contact Simulation. Savek resigned this morning in favor of a new project that requires his expertise."

In other words, she would be seeing him weekly to go over the results of their findings. Spock did not dare to breathe if he wished not to give away how he felt about the situation.

T'Pring did not wait for him to reply. She simply stood up, gave the customary farewell, and left.

Spock leaned forward to pick up the teacup she had left behind.

"Spock." He had heard his father's approach prior to his name being called by him.

"Greetings Father." With the teacup in one hand and a ta'al formed on the other, he faced Ambassador Sarek.

"It has been 3.67 months since our last conversation. I trust your research is going well?"

"Affirmative. I have discovered a human who will be quite beneficial to understanding earth culture. He should also be able to give insight to what the politics and mindset of his people and possible conflicting views."

His father lifted an eyebrow but did not give way to what he was thinking, not like Spock did when he developed the habit. "Does he know that you are Vulcan?"

"Negative. He believes me to either be another human or a component of the simulation."

"Very well. Be cautious Spock. If he begins to determine your origin, you must cease using the simulation." The corners of Sarek's face softened. Concern. Spock thought. His father rarely let him see such a soft side to him; rather, he tended to use words to imply the feelings he kept hidden and usually he did not imply them well. His mother served as the translator between them often during his childhood, telling him what his father really meant.

"I understand, Father." An awkward silence filled the room. Without his mother to keep the conversation going or skillfully changing from one subject to the next, the interactions between them were strained. Amanda always told him it was because they were so much alike that they argued so much. Her absence was felt deeply in instances like this, without her soft, warm voice to fill the gaping silence.

"T'Pring had business with you?"

Spock had been anticipating the question. While Sarek was pleased that his son was leading a project that would determine whether first contact with the humans would be viable, furthering diplomatic relations in the long run, normally, he would have asked about T'Pring first. It was highly likely that his father knew the nature of her visit.

"She wishes to invoke her right to challenge. As it is her right and she has proven to not sway in her decisions in the past, I did not attempt to persuade her to reconsider."

His father nodded in acknowledge to his words, walking towards the window overlooking Shi'Kahr. "It is fortunate that she informed you prior to your time. It gives you an opportunity to find another, unless you wish to challenge for her that is."

Spock took his place beside his father, looking over the city. So similar to ShiKahr, yet so different. This city wasn't alive with human activity. It was quiet and ordered, unlike human chaos. "You know as well as I there will not be many who will be willing to bond with me. If not for the house name, T'Pring's parents would not have agreed, and 98.934 percent of my year are still bonded and await their ceremony."

"There will be others, Spock. I will find candidates for you. Until then, focus on your work. It is crucial not to be distracted in this stage. Important data can easily be missed when dealing with an emotional race." Sarek was back to his mask, but Spock could feel the warmth through their parental bond. Affection towards one child was never deemed illogical.

"Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Negative Father. It is imperative that I review the data I have collected today and plan the meeting with the department heads before tomorrow at midday."

His father accepted the explanation, wishing him a safe return to his own home, and Spock bid him farewell. While his father's home was situated in the cliffs overlooking the city, his small home was a short walk from the academy. After his mother left for Earth, Spock moved out of his father's home and found his own. It was logical when he spent 14 hours within the academy walls on average. His home was small, consisting of a bedroom, a kitchen, a dining room, a study, and a small meditating alcove. It was small but functional for his needs.

The sun was already setting when he walked through the front door. Everything was how he left it. The study was organized to perfection. His notes on Tiberius's actions and behaviors earlier today were carefully piled next to his helmet. There were many things he wished to cross reference, things he did not quite understand or things he wished to compare to determine the accuracy of the information they had received.

He glanced at the helmet. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled up Tiberius's log in hours. It appeared over the past month since he joined, he had logged in about an hour or two a day. Only the past three days had he logged in for 6 or more hours. He appeared to be online again after logging out for a few hours after Spock had. Did Tiberius not have a life outside the game? Or did something happen to lead to this development. He debated going back into the game briefly, if to just watch Tiberius from afar. Subjects acted differently when they knew they were being watched after all.

He had about to make his decision when the human logged off. Probably to retire for the night. The time stamp for his log off was at 2:40 am Earth central time. There was no logic in entering the game now.

Picking up his PADD, he turned on the lights to 50 percent and started going over his notes. It did not cross his mind that every 20 minutes he would look at Tiberius's photo.

* * *

"Don't tell me you're going to go play that game again, Jim. You're not a kid anymore."

Jim barely glanced at his door to see Bones leaning against the door frame. It occurred to him that he had never seen the older man do anything but scowl since he met him. "It's the weekend, and it's not like I have homework, and I already agreed to talk to Barnett on Monday. What do you want from me exactly?"

"How about hanging out with real people, or go outside for some fresh air or hitting the gym? You're going to turn into one of those creepy people that never leave the house and plays videogames all the time."

Jim frowned, gripping the helmet tightly in his hands. "I'm not that bad. Besides, I need to give my brain a workout."

"Then play chess for crying out loud!" McCoy moved into the room, letting the door close behind him.

"I tried. I beat everyone in the chess club. Can't find a good challenge."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "And this game gives your brain a workout." There was doubt in his tone.

The young man sighed. He cared for Bones. He really did, but the man acted like he was 80 instead of his early thirties sometimes. "Why don't you play before you judge?"

McCoy's shoulder sagged in defeat, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "If I play the damn game with you, will you cut down how often you play?"

An evil grin spread across Jim's face. "I'll consider it. Depends if you actually give it a chance."

"Don't push your luck," he snapped. Bones eyed the piece of technology with distrust. "Where can I get one of those damn helmets?"

"I can help with that. Grab your wallet. If we go now, we can get back before 3." Jim was already across the room grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, stripping off his pajama pants as he did so.

"What's so important about 3 o'clock?"

It only took Jim a minute to get dressed, so they were out the door in 2. "I met this strange guy in the game. I think he's an AI."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow, and Jim held back a laugh. Spock did the same thing. "You mean he's one of the characters in the game."

"No, he's not an NPC. Doesn't fit. I think he's an actual sentient AI."

"Jim, don't be ridiculous . . . and what does NPC mean exactly?"

"NPC means non-playable character. It usually indicates a game character that you can't take control of, but that's not important. He's not part of the game Bones, but he doesn't fit the profile of a real person either."

At this point, his best friend was looking like he was about to scan him with a tricorder and hypo him. Jim, being a cautious individual he was, put some space between them. "Jim," his friend said carefully.

"Just hear me out. The things he says makes me think he's not human. It's too weird. He speaks like a computer, and he seems really interested in human behavior, like he never seen it before and only read about them."

If McCoy looked weary of going into the game before, he looked even more so now. "What things exactly?"

"When he questioned me about my IQ and I told him that I wasn't one to go bragging about it, he asked me why not since his _research_ indicated that such results were desirable, and he asks questions about everyday things that most humans would know.

"It also seems like he struggles with emotions, like he's not sure what to do with them. He tries to keep his face completely blank the entire time I talk to him, and corrects himself when he slips. He _insists_ that he doesn't have emotions, and I really think he tries to believe it." Jim got onto the hover bus, paying for both his and McCoy's ticket. Bones was already going to drop a bit of money on the helmet . . . Not that he knew that yet.

"I don't think you can write him off as some advanced computer program that has awareness of self just based on that kid. Maybe he grew up in some backwater society that views emotions as a bad thing."

Jim snorted, taking a seat towards the back of the bus. "I doubt anyone with a 240 IQ could be from a backwater society that represses emotions. We'd know about it. Plus, do you really think that type of society would like videogames?"

"Better than your idea," the doctor muttered.

"Is it so hard to believe he's an AI?" Jim sulked, leaning back into his seat.

"I think I rather believe in alien life forms before sentient computer programs. The last thing I need to worry about before I go into space is a computer uprising."

"What about an alien invasion?"

McCoy shoved him roughly. "That's not even funny, Jim," he growled.

"I'll tell you what. If Spock ends up being an alien life form, I'll buy you bourbon for a year."

McCoy's eyebrow twitched. He liked the sound of that, it seemed. "I'll take you up on that offer. If he ends up being an AI, I won't complain ever again about how immature you are."

"I think I am getting the better end of this deal," Jim teased.

Both men got off the bus in the shopping district. It was crowded, people hustling from one place to another. It wasn't too much of a surprise. The holidays were two months away. Shopping was starting to pick up around this time.

Jim dragged Bones to the electronic store, having memorized the layout the first time he had come to buy the game. He easily weaved through the crowds, much to McCoy's displeasure of being led like a child.

Jim retrieved the helmet, game, and extended memory needed to play ShiKahr, making sure his friend didn't see the price until it was too late. It was kind of a shitty thing to do, but a part of him wanted McCoy to meet Spock. He predicted their reactions to one another would be quite amusing.

He did however hear about it at the cash register. "1000 credits?! Goddamit Jim, how the hell did you afford this? How the hell am I supposed to afford this?! Do I look like I am made of goddamned money? I swear kid, the things I do for you should make me a damned saint."

The rant pulled attention to them which the young man ate up, looking pained at the comments. "But Bones, I thought you cared for me? You stayed at my bedside whenever I was sick or injured. Said that I was the only person you had left. Are you taking that back now? After all these years we've spent together? Over a little bit of money?" A woman behind them gasped in sympathy, sending glares at McCoy. There were quite a few glares at the doctor actually, and it was hard to keep a straight face during it all.

McCoy's face turned red, and hurried to purchase the items and leave before any more people took Jim's side. "If my future wasn't riding on you being picked as candidate, I would hypo you into next week."

"Aw, come on Bones. Lighten up. Everything I said is technically true. It's not my fault they don't know I'm straight and took it out of context." Jim ducked his head when the doctor raised his hand, tempted to smack him for being a manipulating bastard. Sometimes he wished he never knew the kid. "It will take you a few hours to install and set up, so I'll meet Spock while you do all that and meet you when you're ready to go."

"You honestly expect me to set this all up on my own? I'm a doctor not a computer expert!"

"Don't worry, I'll ask Christine to come over and help you. She plays too you know." At Christine's name, the doctor's scowl, the first time in a while, lessened and his cheeks flushed. Jim knew his friend had a small crush on the nurse. Whether Chrissy returned those feelings still remained to be seen. All he knew was Bones was a "southern gentlemen" and wouldn't act on those feelings as long as he worked with her. Couldn't hurt to set them up just in case though. In the two and a half years Jim knew McCoy, the older man never showed any interest in women, sore from the fallout from his divorce. If his friend needed a push to get back in the dating game, he was going to give a shove.

On the way back, he sent a short message to the nurse. The reply was enthusiastic at least. She was more than eager to help her grumpy coworker get set up. That was a positive sign at least. Jim carried the bag in, not trusting McCoy to not toss it out the window on a whim, and handed it to a pretty blonde woman standing outside their apartment. Bones gave something that resembled a smile to her in greeting and opened the door for her.

Jim took that moment to escape into his room while he was preoccupied. Not because he was late meeting Spock, but because he didn't want to distract his already flustered friend with unneeded commentary. He was a natural flirt. He couldn't help it sometimes, so he was doing them both a favor and staying out of it.

On another note, he was anxious to see Spock again. Being with him was . . . mentally stimulating. He smiled at the choice of words. It was something Spock would say.

Starting up the game, he put on the helmet, wondering what Spock would have in store for him that day.

 


	4. Getting to Know You

"You're a natural," Jim grinned, watching the arrow fly and meet its target 100 yards away. "Most beginners can't hit that accurately consistently with a target that far. The success rate is too low."

"I believe the proper term you meant to employ is precise which means to achieve the intended results dissimilar to accurate which means to receive consecutive results despite the precision, so it is very possible to be accurate without being precise which is not the definition you were looking for."

Somewhere in Spock's explanation of the two terms, Jim had stopped paying attention. He was getting used to the weird way Spock spoke and his seemingly obsessed behavior to correct and question Jim's grammar. It was kind of cute in a weird, kind of dorky, way. That was until Spock asked if he received the proper education to speak proper standard anyway.

"So," he started, watching as Spock collected the spoils. It was his first kill, and it only took Jim two sessions to convince him to do it.

"Is something troubling you, Tiberius?" The way Spock paused to look up at him with his eyebrows knit together just enough to convey his concern was endearing. It was nice to see concern that didn't involve an excessive about of yelling and threats of hypos. Speaking of hypos . . .

"It's nothing much. It's just that I have a friend joining the game any minute now. You have an hour left, so I was wondering if maybe you'd, you know . . ." Jim had an easier time asking women out on dates, and if he didn't know better, it did kind of sound like he was asking him out on one.

Spock's body tensed at the suggestion. "You wish for me to accompany you and your friend?"

"Yeah, I mean, hanging out with you is fun, and well, it took me a month to get him to try it, so I really want to give him a good impression, so he'll keep doing it. Plus, I kind of told him about you." A sheepish smile crossed his face. "I know you're kind of anti-social, but I really wanted to show you off to him."

It took Spock a moment to respond, no doubt translating his colloquial standard into his own version of it in his head. Seriously, it was like they spoke two different languages sometimes, not that it was a bad thing. "I would be . . . happy to meet your friend."

"Happy Spock? Is that an emotion?" He teased, resisting the urge to jab him with his elbow. Instead, he squatted beside him, grinning ear to ear.

"Of course not, Tiberius. I am merely replying with the proper response to this situation." Spock did not miss a beat when it came to denying his emotions.

"Great! If we leave now, we can just make it to his beginner village." Jim stood, sheathing his blade.

"You know which race your friend will choose?" Spock did the same, slinging his bow across his back.

A snort escaped the human as if that was the stupidest question he had ever heard. "Oh yeah. If anything, he's predictable. Just don't let him hear you say that. I rather not be assaulted in the real world."

"He assaults you on a regular basis?" Genuine concern marred the usually stoic face as he regarded his companion. It grew when the response to his worry was a laugh.

"It's not what you're thinking. He's my doctor in real life too," Jim paused at his slip up. Unspoken rule of gaming 101, you do not speak of your real life unless you know that person in real life as well. It was too dangerous to give personal information online these days. You never knew what type of person you were talking to. Spock was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue with authentic interest and curiosity. He made a decision right there that he normally wouldn't make no matter if he was online or off. He would trust Spock. At least with the small details of his real life. "He gets hypo happy sometimes and likes to jab me with them. Won't warn me either. He'll just pull it out of thin air and inoculate me against whatever booster shot or vaccine I'm behind on. If I really piss him off, he won't be gentle about it either. My neck was sore for a week when I first moved in with him."'

Spock wanted to ask whether Jim was suffering from some sort of ailment that would lead to the development of having to live with his primary doctor but managed to refrain. It would be a question for another time. The question was too personal for the length of time they had known each other. Instead he asked, "Is this type of aggression common among physicians?"

Jim laughed again, his shoulders shaking as he did. "Nah, he's just grumpy." With a glance at Spock he thought it was fair to warn him for who he was about to meet. "He'll come across as a bit abrasive, but he's a good guy. He's a big softy underneath, and he's the nicest person you'll ever meet. I mean he puts up with me, and I know I'm not the easiest person to live with, but no matter how often he might complain and chew you out and threaten you, he'll help anyone out. Enemy, friend, doesn't matter to him. He'd try to save them all if he can." Jim spoke with such fondness that it was a bit unexpected. It was a new side of Jim Spock had never seen. He spoke so wistfully, his eyes distant as he thought of his friend.

"He means a lot to you."

Jim's smile was a sadder one than any of the ones Spock had seen previously. "He's my first real friend. I owe him a lot." Brighter he said, "Doesn't mean he's not lethal with those hypos though. We should pick up the pace before he changes his mind and never step foot into the game ever again."

They purchased transport crystals to reach the beginner city on a different continent. The human continent. Jim had assured Spock that his friend would choose the human race because he lacked adventure and deviation from the norm. Jim had even predicted what class his friend would pick.

He wasn't wrong. "Goddammit, why the hell am I in a dress?!"

"That would be him," Jim informed him cheerfully as they made their way to the entrance of the monastery where all beginners of the human race started. Tiberius's friend was dressed in simple mage robes, similar to what monks used to where accept it was a cream color. It was long enough to brush the ground and was held closed by a brown rope. In his hand was a long wooded staff that was taller than the man holding it by a good six inches. "Horatio? Really Bones? That's so lame."

"Like you have room to talk. You used your middle name too." The man grumbled. Horatio was slightly taller than Tiberius by a hair, his black hair was cut short, and his eyes were blue. Not as bright as Tiberius's were, but unique in its own way. Spock wondered if both men really had blue eyes in the real world or if humans had an affinity for the color. "It was that or Dr. McBones, and I refuse to be called that."

At the announcement of that personal information, Jim stiffened then glared at his friend. "Should have went with the last one. Dr. McBones, Master of Hypos or better yet, Asshole with Hypos. Jesus Bones, for someone who quotes safety to me at least ten times a day, you should know better than saying things like that."

The man scowled and abruptly changed the subject. "What the hell am I wearing? I swear to God Jim if you put me in this thing somehow, you're going to regret it at your next physical."

"Chill out. It's the beginner's outfit for the white mages. We'll get you some better clothes when you make some money." Jim rolled his eyes.

Spock watched the exchange with interest. Despite the arguing, there seemed to be a lack of tension between them as he had seen between other humans doing the same thing. Both humans actually looked relaxed as they spoke as if this was the norm for them. Once again, he felt human interactions were escaping him like they were speaking another language, so he found content in simply observing them several feet away while they talked amongst themselves.

"Anyway," Jim said loudly, interrupting whatever the doctor was going to say. He turned and walked to Spock's side. "This is Spock. The person I've been telling you about."

Spock nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Doctor," he greeted in the same toneless voice he had used to greet Jim when they first met. For some reason, Jim frowned just slightly. He couldn't really call it a frown, it was barely a downturn at the corner of Jim's lips, but the displeasure was obvious to him even if Tiberius hid it fairly well.

"So you're the reason the kid's been hooked on this game." Mistrust, Spock noted. The way Horatio looked at him with weary as if Spock meant ill will towards them.

The thought that Tiberius was actually a child made him want to agree with the doctor. He stood a bit straighter and looked at Tiberius, "I was unaware that you were a minor, Tiberius." He felt deceived. It was illogical to feel so. He was technically deceiving Tiberius and no one here was who they were in real life, so it should not matter, should not show his disappointment as it did when he addressed the man beside him.

"I'm not," he glared at his friend Bones before that glare turned into amusement. "By the way you should watch how you say things. You make it sound like you were doing questionable things with a minor."

"You are of legal age?" Jim was smiling again at his question. He had no idea what was so humorous.

"If you must know, I'm 22. Bones over there, thinks just because he got 11 years on me makes him an old man and calls me kid."

"You are a kid. A baby even. You act like it enough." Bones scowled, messing with his player menu trying to figure out how the friend list works.

"Doctor, I do not understand why you would refer to Tiberius as an adolescent when he is not one. It is very misleading and can cause unnecessary confusion."

McCoy stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Seriously, you've spent how long with him, and you don't see it?"

"I have spent approximately 6.253 hours in his company over the last three days: the first day approximately 1.014 hours, the second day exactly 3.001, and today─"

"You can't be serious," the elder man muttered, looking at him in complete disbelief.

"I assure you I am. Why would you be under the assumption that I am not?"

Horatio and Tiberius shared some sort of look that went over Spock's head. While Jim looked smug, the doctor looked annoyed. "Since Spock got my full attention yesterday for the beginner's tutorial, you get it today, Bones. Lucky you."

"Bite me."

"Why would you want Tiberius to bite you? Is that some sort of custom in your culture or did you mean it as some sort of metaphor?"

Horatio groaned while Tiberius laughed, dragging them both to the nearby plains to teach his friend about the game. He was right; the two together was very entertaining.

Whether Bones would admit it or not, Jim was sure he did have fun, at least once they got him new clothes that did not involve robes. Unlike with Spock, McCoy had to work for his items. The reason, Jim just couldn't help pissing the older man off. McCoy chose a class that focused on healing and support. He didn't have many attacks to go off on his own, so McCoy wouldn't be playing the game much without Jim unless he found another group to accompany him, which suited Bones just fine. He didn't plan to play the game often and only would to entertain Jim. So after the short lesson on how to select healing and support magic, Jim focused most of his attention on improving Spock's level as he was more likely to take the game more seriously.

McCoy left after an hour and a half of play. He had been on call and was being called in for an emergency surgery. It was wise to have Christine set him up and forward his messages to his game email account, so he could be reached while otherwise occupied.

It left Spock alone with Jim on the grassy plains of the Terran continent. They settled themselves on the cliff's edge, overlooking the setting sun. It was quiet between them; the only sounds were the herd of buffalo off in the distance, running through the grass to their destination, the soft gurgling of the river at the bottom of the ravine, and the rustle of the grass from the wind. There were no sights like this on Earth anymore. Buffalo were extinct along with many other species after the nuclear war known as World War III. That was if they didn't go extinct from over hunting before then. Sure there were still natural wildlife preserves, but many had been violated by poachers, war, and the human need to expand before the population finally leveled off. The preserves that were left were recreated with human engineering. No longer completely natural and they certainly weren't as beautiful as this.

"How do you feel about the game?"

Spock's question startled Jim out of his reverence; surprised that Spock had been the one to ask. "Shouldn't I be asking you since you just started playing?"

Spock only stared, awaiting his answer.

Blue eyes went back to staring at the sun set. He was sure Spock did not understand what purpose this served, but Jim gave it to him that the man sat without questioning the logic of the action and did it anyway. "It's amazing. It's all so real, and it's beautiful. I mean when will I ever see a sight like this in my life time in the real world? And the game mechanics is a dream come true. Fighting enemies that can adapt and come after you, testing your skills, your intelligence, against them is exhilarating."

"I feel you have grievances as well," Spock said when Jim stopped. His dark eyes were watching the human's every move, and Jim was very aware.

"You ever heard of an old movie called _Inception?_ "

The question was so out of place, Spock tried to determine why it was asked in the first place. Often, it seemed like Jim's conversation was all over the place, but Spock had learned there was always a reason behind it that had nothing to do with the fast pace Jim's mind was constantly moving at. The Vulcan was certain that was part of the reason for the human's constant restlessness. His mind was always active going from one thought process to another. A strange desire swelled in Spock's chest. It was brief and he had forgotten it the moment it passed. _What would it be like to meld with such a dynamic mind?_ There was sure to be no order to it, and there would definitely be no logic to it either. Past that, he did not know what to expect, and he didn't dwell on it. The desire pasted in a blink of an eye and so did his curiosity. "I have never viewed any movie that did not hold educational value to it."

It was an answer Jim had been expecting, so he did not poke and prod at Spock's peculiar habits. "In the movie people can induce dreams and enter them being fully conscious of the dream and control them as one would do if they were conscious. By doing this, the person loses the ability to dream without an outside aid.

"There was a group of people in the movie who would go everyday to have their dreams induced, having lost the ability to do it themselves. However, these people were slaves to their dreams. They preferred the dream world to their own reality and took it as their reality, leaving the real world behind where that was the dream instead."

Spock's brows furrowed together. "I apologize. I do not quite understand what you are trying to convey."

"What I mean is this world is so real. You can do anything you want, be whoever you want. For a person who can't walk in real life, they can come here be the fastest, most nimble player out there. For a blind man who can't see, he can see more than he ever could in his normal body." Jim gestured to the setting sun. "I think there will be people out there, people who cannot cope with real life and do not want to accept it, who will start making this their reality."

Spock never considered that possibility. On Vulcan, no one would choose what they would know to be an illusion. There was no logic in pursuing a life that was not real. "Would you be one of those who would substitute realities?"

Jim was quiet, watching the sun finally disappear behind the horizon. "No. Real life may suck at times, but it's still real life. I can't change the condition of the world by ignoring it and hiding in a game, and I want to change the world. I want to see everything it has to offer, see what's out there in the universe. Earth may not have sights like this anymore, but maybe another planet out there does. I'll never find if I stayed here."

"I admire your strength," Spock said quietly. He hadn't thought before speaking, and he had to force himself not to regret his slip up. There was no sense in regretting what was already done. It did not stop him from illogically hoping that Jim had missed it.

Unfortunately, he had Jim's full attention. He decided not to elaborate. He had only interacted with this human for a little over eight hours. Instead he changed the subject. "I see you have been online for approximately 7.24 hours on average the past four days. Do you normally spend so much time in the game?" Of course he knew the answer to the question, but he wouldn't admit to looking at his companion's logs.

A scowl that rivaled Horatio's appeared on Tiberius's face, directed at the now dark landscape. "I got into some trouble and was banned from my normal life until my hearing. They think that I cheated."

"You are a student?" Spock asked.

Jim hesitated again, deciding whether or not to give up the information. "Yeah," he said slowly, picking his words carefully. "The test is a simulation. One that cannot be beaten. You are given a certain scenario, and you have to do our best to survive. No one survives at the end of the simulation. Most are judged on how well you minimize the damage."

"May I ask how you cheated?"

This time the scowl was directed at Spock. "I did not cheat. I changed the parameter of the test."

"By definition, is that not cheating?"

A growl escaped the human, and it looked like he was contemplating whether to push him into the ravine. "All right let me give you a scientific example since your all into math and science. I have a friend named Scotty. He's an engineering genius. He's been trying to figure out an equation for transporting something onto another thing going faster than the speed of light. Of course, he can't prove it until we figure out how to break warp, but he had the thought, and he's working on it. When he started it however, he discovered it was impossible to do it."

"I do not understand what this has to do with changing the parameters of the test."

Jim shushed him. "I'm getting there. Anyway, he figured out why it was impossible with the tests he had been doing. The parameters were not working. One of the parameters he had set was that only the object he was trying to use as the destination was moving. It finally occurred to him that space was also moving."

It never occurred to Spock or any Vulcan that space was the one moving either. He very much wanted to meet this Scotty. A species from a technological inferior race had come up with a concept with limited equipment that no one else had thought of. If Scotty was successful, he would be the creator of the transwarp beaming equation so many had tried to solve. He was torn between reporting this discovery and robbing the chance from the man who deserved it by "changing the parameters" for the other scientists who had the equipment to test the theory and leaving it alone until the human race managed to break warp and let the human discover and test it for himself. He did wish to get his hands on what the man had already put together though.

"That's what I did with the test. There was nothing in the rules saying I was not allowed to change the parameters, so I did. I won, so they put me on academic suspension until they decide what to do with me."

"I find your logic to be valid," Spock conceded.

Jim grinned. "Well if I can manage to convince the most logical being in the galaxy, then I should be fine at my hearing."

"Perhaps, but they may not concede to logic as I do. Humans have a tendency to let their emotions rule their actions."

Jim frowned. "That's the second time you referred to us as humans, disassociating yourself from the word. Are you really not human?"

"How are you not certain I was generally speaking of the human race including yourself and I?" A quirk of the eyebrow.

"It's the way you say it." Jim looked him over with a critical eye. "It kind of sounds like you're only part human yourself, but you don't want to acknowledge it so you diss it and pretend you're not one. Doesn't help me solve what you are cause it could truly mean you're not human and you really think so little about humans and their emotionalisms and inaccuracies, or you are human and don't want to acknowledge it."

Spock looked down at his hands. This human was very perceptive. He had no idea how close to the mark he was that he was part of a race that was equally as emotional as humans. His mother barely had any differences from the human race really either mentally or physically. That was why she blended in on Earth without question, and Jim, humans in general, reminded him of her. A part of himself which he often tried to hide and ignore. Jim believed he was either human or not. Would he be surprised if the answer was a mix?

"I'm sorry." The apology was quiet and Spock had almost missed it, but Jim looked uncomfortable as he fidgeted with his hands. "I didn't mean to push like that."

"There is no need for apologies. Your statement required self reflection is all. You are very intuitive as well as insightful. You will do well in whatever occupation you have chosen for yourself once you finish your schooling."

"Thanks." Tension eased from the blond man's shoulders. "I'll see you tomorrow right?"

Spock nodded, standing carefully to ensure he would not fall into the ravine. Tiberius might survive the fall, but he would not. "If you could add an event to the game, what would it be?"

Jim didn't seem put off from the sudden change in topic. He simply answered with as much energy as he always put into things. "Truthfully, I think a giant battle royal would be cool. All the players going against one another. Each player starting in a different place and released at one time making them find and fight one another. It would be fun to see what tactics a weaker player would use against a stronger one you know? Who would fight head to head, who would seek who, what alliances would form? A match between brains as well as brawn. It'd be fun."

"I was under the impression you did not like killing other players."

"We wouldn't be killing other players. Those in the event would merely get a knock out or something. That way they won't level down when they get defeated." The excitement practically jumped off the human's skin. Spock could literally feel it brush against his mind.

It was inevitable to feel human minds brush against his own since his mind as well as the humans occupied the same space and interacted. Since his mind lacked a body to contain his telepathy, it was stronger and easier to pick up emotions if his shields weren't firmly in place even with the limiters on his helmet to dampen the potency of it, but he still felt Jim's mind. It was warm, like a spring day on Vulcan, and its touch as soft and delicate as a feather. It was light, and it was welcoming. It was soothing to his overworked, closed off mind, smoothing the edges of harsh thoughts formed from years of prejudice. As irrational as it was, he felt like he was in his own skin for the first time.

"It is an idea with merit, a safe environment to test one's skills and abilities against another. You should send a message to the administrators. Perhaps they can arrange something." Spock's eyes never left Jim's as he spoke.

"Maybe. We'll see."

Spock left with the sight of Jim's smile, and the memory of Jim's mind brushing against his. With meditation, he reinforced his shields and suppressed the feelings he shamefully let run free the past hour. He would not be making the same mistake. He had to remain focused and unattached if he wished to not be subjective in his reports and analysis. No matter how warm the mind or welcoming, he could not allow himself to be swayed by the human if he wished to keep seeing him, studying him, and discovering parts of himself that he had previously paid no attention to. He must be Vulcan.

When his meditation was complete, he ate a small meal and went over his work. He had a meeting with T'Pring in two days time, one he was not looking forward to, and his reports that he meant to turn in were falling behind, so he spent much of the night completing them. He hardly noticed the message his mother forwarded him. She played administrator for the game on Earth and forwarded him interesting emails if she thought they deserved his attention. He felt the corners of his lips pull up against his will.

His mother must have been put in a program to bring any email Tiberius sent to the administrators to the forefront, because there was very little chance for his mother to discover the email so quickly if left to normal devices. It was a request for the battle royal Tiberius had told him about. Attached was a well thought out plan on how it would all work that must have taken the human a couple hours to put together. It was a very well done business proposal instead of a simple request really. He must have really wanted this event.

Spock had planned to get a few hours of sleep before his trip to the academy early in the morning. He felt this was more important. He sent his mother the proposal telling her to go ahead and make it happen then proceeded to send Jim a message that his proposal was accepted and would occur at the end of the month in three weeks time. It could happen sooner, but he wanted to participate in the event as well. In order to do so, he would need to level up which would take time. He sent a second message as an anonymous sender instead of as an administrator, attaching a small gift. There was no illogic in showing appreciation for the help Jim was unconsciously giving him.

As he was about to retire for the night, he thought better of it and searched Earth's internet, via a link he had with his mother's computer, and searched for the movie called _Inception._

* * *

Jim's hearing went surprisingly well. Somehow, before he walked into the room, someone named Amanda Grayson, a renowned linguist and part time engineer got wind of his hearing and offered her point of view. He was curious about the woman, and why she would care. She had recently shown up out of nowhere and joined Starfleet two years ago. She had come up with a translator that was able to translate any human language into standard. It was a remarkable feat of both linguistics and engineering, but Jim could not shake why she had interfered with his hearing. In the two years of joining, she made quite a name for herself, and she surely had better things to do than worry about a random person she never met or heard of. A part of him wanted to ask her if it had anything to do with his father.

The admiralty decided to give him the award for creative thinking as a result of his hearing. A bullshit award if you asked him, but no one did. He asked about Mrs. Grayson, but it turned out she was traveling abroad or something and were unable to get a hold of her until she returned. When asked if they knew the reason why she had concerned herself with him, the answer was vague showing they too had no idea why she did it.

Spock had asked about his hearing the day after, and he told him what had happened. Spock did his not frown thing.

"What?" Jim asked, confused by the reaction.

"It is of no consequence, I would consider it fortunate that they saw the logic in what you did and was rewarded for it." Before Jim could call bullshit, Spock skillfully changed the subject to the movie _Inception._ "I find its interpretation of human dreams and the mind in general quite fascinating if a bit abstract. I found the movie quite intriguing and stimulating," he had said

The inevitable debate ensued on whether or not the ending was still a part of the dream or reality. In the end, Jim was forced to agree that it was still a dream, and Spock admitted to better understanding what Jim had tried to tell him the other day.

Spock's leveling up was coming along as well, and they moved on to much higher level enemies where he needed Jim's assistance to survive.

Spock ended up leaving later than usual, but he didn't seem to mind, so Jim didn't either. It was a good week. He had received the message saying that his proposal was accepted, and would be seeing credits enter his account for the idea as compensation. He made no mention of the other message he had received, but he felt like he was on cloud nine.

Spock on the other hand was livid his mother had made violated Tiberius's privacy.

"I didn't actually meet him," she defended herself. "I don't even know what he looks like. If it makes you feel better, I won't tell you what's his real name or what he does. Only that I stumbled upon his name and thinking it was the same person helped him out after looking over the case. I'm pleased to know it was Tiberius. I've only heard stories about him, but he seems to be an exceptional young man, both on and offline."

"You should not have looked at his account file and found out his real name to begin with. It is a violation of his privacy." It had been awkward reprimanding his mother, but she apologized profusely promising she would never do it again. He had no doubt. She was only interested in Tiberius after all.

Still, he was secretly gratified that Tiberius had not been expelled from his institution of learning. It would have been a waste to lose such a valuable mind.

So for the next three weeks, they met every day at the same time, focusing on leveling up and gaining armor, weapons, and items that would help them out during the event. Jim went back to only playing two to three hours a day, and Spock stayed longer so he could catch up to Jim's level.

And Jim was still nowhere close to figuring out what Spock was, but there was no rush. He was enjoying his conversations with Spock. Their conversations ranged from philosophy, culture, warp theory (though Spock seemed to hold back his ideas on certain scientific conversations, especially theory), movies that Jim convinced Spock to watch, and just life in general.

Despite how much they talked, they avoided intimate details of each other's life. That didn't keep them from learning about one another. Spock learned that despite Jim's easy going personality, he kept his distance emotionally from others, his smiles and jokes a way to deflect from himself. He also noticed that Jim had no tolerance for humans looking to cause trouble. Not to say Jim was a saint himself. The stories about some of the brawls he had gotten into proved that. But when those players were looking to bully or ruin someone's day, Jim cut them down to size both literally and figuratively. It was the first time he noticed the darkness that Jim buried deep with himself.

In return, Jim learned about Spock. As time went on, it became how obvious Spock's lack of knowledge of human interactions and culture truly was. It also became evident how uncomfortable he was with his emotions. At times, he would arrive ramrod straight and as emotional as a rock, and he often shut down if Jim teased him too often about his emotions. However, Spock was curious about everything, even human emotions. Jim was more than happy to press his buttons and get them to show themselves much to Spock's annoyance. Not that he would ever say that he was annoyed out loud. He didn't need to announce it though. Jim had become very good at reading his eyebrows.

It was two days before the competition now, and Spock had to return to ShiKahr to take care of something, dragging Jim with him, not that it took much prodding.

"Been a while since we been in ShiKahr huh. Just as hot and oppressive as ever." Jim sighed, kicking up dirt. I-Chaya seemed to disagree with him as he purred and rubbed against Spock's side, seeking attention. "Traitor," he murmured under his breath, shooting daggers at his pet.

Spock scratched behind I-Chaya's ear absentmindedly. Jim was sure the elf wasn't even aware that he was doing it. "You should take I-Chaya on as a pet during the competition. I'm sure he'd be more than happy too."

"I cannot. He is your companion, not mine."

Jim waved his hand dismissing him. "I-Chaya really likes you. More than me, and I'll pretend I'm not offended by that. It's only for a day, and you really like him, so win-win right?"

Spock hesitated, his eyes a millimeter wider than normal, conveying his surprise. "Thank you, Tiberius," he finally said, his voice lower than usual. "He will surely be a great asset to me."

"It's no problem. I'm glad to be of use." He would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to go against Spock. The pointy ear bastard was only ten levels below him now. Close enough to cause major damage and win easily if he managed to corner him. He wanted to match wits with Spock and giving him I-Chaya for a day would even the playing field. He had no idea what to expect from I-Chaya with Spock directing him in battle. It was only a bonus that Spock truly seemed attached to the sehlat and lit up when it was around. "So where are we heading?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "We are here."

"Uh?" Jim glanced around. "I thought you said you were going to your house in ShiKahr. All that's here is the entrance to the Palace." If Jim didn't know better, Spock looked smug. Jim's eyes widened. "No─"

"Welcome to my home Jim." Spock opened the ten foot clay door that led into the palace's entrance.

"You . . . but . . . wha─?" Jim barely had mind to follow after him. "It's possible to buy this place?"

"No, I was given this place by a player who is related to the creator. She insisted I have it."

"Why give it to you?" Jim asked taking in the architecture. The entire deign took after ShiKahr's culture with high sweeping arches, floor to ceiling windows, symbols carved into the railing of the staircase and doors, and the beautiful moldings. It was breathtaking.

"They thought a good home might, and I quote, 'make you see the good things in life and bring a smile to your face.'" For a second, Jim thought Spock would roll his eyes.

"Well they're right. You should smile more." At Spock's disapproving glace, Jim shrugged, deciding to explore the large house. "So what do you need to do that requires coming here?"

" Be patient, and you will see."

Jim had already disappeared into one of the many rooms, rummaging through something. It appeared he had already made himself at home, not bothering to ask for permission before going through his stuff. It was rude and very obnoxious for the human to do so, yet Spock couldn't stop himself from smiling just a bit since no one was there to witness it. It was a refreshing change of pace, and it wouldn't be Jim otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments on how I did guys.


	5. Battle Royale

_**Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the first ever ShiKahr Battle Royale. As you know, only players who have reached the legendary city of ShiKahr can participate in this event. 102,046 players have successfully qualified, and 80,005 have successfully registered. The entire country of Elas will be the battle ground, and all players not a part of the competition have been evacuated from the area. All participants are above a level 50. These are the elite players, folks. The best of the best out of ten million online users. This promises to be an exciting match, and we're here to bring you the visuals.** _

Jim stretched, standing at his starting point in the middle of the desert, listening to the broadcast. He held his sword in his hand, watching the countdown in front of him. The sword was pure black, forged from the meteors found in the northern continent. Spock had given it to him as a gift two days prior to thank him for the help he had received in getting started. It was the rarest sword in the game as it was the only sword ever made from the metals of the northern continent. He hadn't known what to say. Spock would have had to personally go to the continent to collect the materials. There was said to be a dragon guarding the creator. For him to chance leveling down for something so rare . . . Kirk held the handle tighter.

_**Each of our players will start in a different area. After a certain amount of time, areas will begin to become off limits until the only playing field remaining is the Andraya Plains where the battles will continue until there is one player left standing. Any player found in the off limit sections will instantly become disqualified.** _

Jim closed his eyes, ignoring the rest of the commentary. His mind was on Spock; he could imagine what Spock was doing right then. Spock would be on his knees, his eyes closed, breathing evenly. He would ignore his surroundings and focus at the task at hand, centering his mind. Jim really couldn't wait to fight against him. Assuming they both survived, but he had no doubt they would.

The starting bell startled him out of his thoughts. Looking around, he cursed and immediately went on the move. His starting point left him out in the open, making him an easy target for long ranged players. He had to get into a more enclosed area and lure people to him for close range combat.

But he would wait to attack though. He knew exactly what most were thinking: form a temporary alliance; survive until the end, fight friends last. He had no plans on making an alliance, so Jim had no chance against a group of players, but there was a drawback to traveling in a pack. It made them easier to spot. Other alliances would find them and stronger (or more rash) players would confront them, thinning them out. If all else fails, he would pick them off one by one if he had too. In fact . . .

It was only ten minutes into the game and already there was a small alliance formed. There were only three of them, all barely level 50. There was a black mage, and two heavy swordsmen. He grinned. He did say he wouldn't go against groups, but they were easy pickings. He could tell they weren't very coordinated. Chances were, by the way they were walking out in the open without using any of the landscape to hide some of their presence in the area, they were relying on brute force and numbers. They must have gotten lucky when crossing the Valley Forge. They were too open.

Jim watched them for a little while, following them to ensure they were not open to lure people into a trap. He had conformation when a reckless player (level 63) attacked them. The player was defeated, but the group showed its inexperience. They all fought individually, got in each other's way, and overall barely defeated the challenger.

Due to the nature of his opponents, he waited for them to enter the forest. It was a dense forest, and it would be perfect for him to attack. They must have been searching for another player or going to a specific destination because this route was literally the worst playing field they could find themselves in. That or they didn't think about the consequences.

Jim drew a dagger from his inventory. A smirk pulled at his lips. With silent and swift footsteps, he stabbed the dagger into the back of the mages head as he vaulted over her, watching as her health bar fell quickly to the red area from such a critical hit. Mages after all had low hit points. He landed on the shoulders of the dark skinned swordsman. His partner, an elf (ill suited for the heavy swordsman class, but Jim had given up on the intelligence of these players at this point), swung his heavy blade in a wide horizontal arc, planning to attack Tiberius as he landed. Instead, the blade hit the thick trunk of a tree, getting lodged into the wood.

Jim was full out grinning. He jumped off the man's shoulder, his blade drawn delivering swift strikes to the mage, who had managed to finally remove the dagger. The strikes, left light red digital marks, showing the damage Jim had down, small pixels floating into the air to indicate that they were still depleting the life bar. With another thrust of his sword, the mage's form pixelated and disappeared, leaving the word KO in her wake.

Without turning around, Jim ducked, dodging the swipe of the dark skinned man, then ducked behind another tree letting the elf's sword strike the trunk. Tiberius was fast, and he used it to his advantage. With the trees in the way, their attacks were limited and predictable. His speed allowed him to get in close, get in a few attacks before he dodged either using the trees as his shield or jumping over and/or between them.

He continued the process, hacking away at their life bars. It wasn't a straight out duel as he preferred, but he was on limited potions and items. There was no telling how many he might be forced to use later. It took only two minutes to KO them. It took longer than he expected, but he also didn't receive any damage.

At the sound of voices approaching, he hid, watching another group, this time hunters, walk through the area. No doubt they were attracted by the commotion, but he wasn't going to attack them. Just by a glance, he knew they could actually fight and corner him. He also knew they had tracking abilities, so he retreated as quietly as he could, before they tracked him.

* * *

Hour Three.

A third of the playing field had already become off limits, and 13,007 players were already eliminated, and the amount of time between player KOs was decreasing as the playing field shrank to encourage more confrontations.

The feeling of competition was filling the air; Spock could feel it around him, battering his shields relentlessly. He kneeled, collecting his arrows. He had already lured and eliminated 205 players from the competition. He was closer to the center of the map. His hunting ground was the forest. He wouldn't be forced to move for another five hours when this area also became off limits. It was to be the last of the eliminations.

He took the chance to check the player list. Tiberius was still in the game. He only eliminated 96, but 72 of those was in the last hour. Tiberius was watching and waiting, just like him, and quickly picking up the pace in the eliminations as stronger players got tired and worn down from dealing with small fry.

More humans were heading his direction as the players were forced to condense with the limited battle field. He could feel their aggression, their excitement, their blood lust. He could feel it all. So many humans, so many heightened emotions.

A smile pulled at his lips.

* * *

Hour Seven.

Jim sighed. He was hoping to have run into Spock by now. His name was still on the active players' list. There were only 83 players left. At this point, the battle had turned into one of mental fortitude. To be on alert for seven straight hours was hard on anyone. Especially with the small area that was left to play in. The past hour alone he had taken care of 200 players. He remained untouched for the most part, but he had no time to rest. He was getting careless, but so were other players.

He ended up back in the forest region. The ones on the opposite side of the map and much bigger than the ones he had been in previously. Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes. If he was right, the battle would be decided within the next hour. Score wise he had the second to most kills; Spock was only three kills below him. Another player named FencingNut was leading.

At the sound of movement, Jim whirled around with his sword drawn, but it wasn't a player as he was expecting.

I-Chaya growled, circling around him, looking at him like he was food. His lips were pulled back, baring his teeth at him.

Jim's heart beat quickly, cursing at his luck to meet I-Chaya. He didn't hear Spock though. Did I-Chaya go rogue? I-Chaya roared, and Jim cursed aloud this time, running away as I-Chaya tried to pounce on him. Despite being a pet, the sehlat was still a level 78. It was best not to confront him if it could be helped.

The fact that I-Chaya was a desert dwelling animal was useful in the fact that he was not used to the terrain, but he was still fast. Fast enough to keep up with Jim. The sehlat was trying to trap him. Jim was well aware of the cliff 500 yards ahead. One deep enough that Jim wasn't sure if he would survive the fall, so he turned, heading east, towards the plains were his speed could be used at the fullest extent.

That was the plan anyway. Something tightened on his ankle, yanking it out from under him then pulled him up so he was hanging upside down. It caused him to become disoriented and disabled until it wore off in 15 seconds. It was a lot of time to do major damage. Since it was a hunter's trap and I-Chaya was the one who herded him this direction, he was expecting Spock. So it wasn't much of a surprise when Spock emerged from the bushes, barely rustling the leaves as he did so. Even so, he wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Spock moved forward, low to the ground in an almost squatted position, bow in his hands. He moved like a predator, graceful and silent, and his eyes, his eyes were of a predator that had caught its prey. They were focused and intense. Emotions flashing through them. Too fast for Jim to be certain of what any of them meant. His shirt was gone, most likely broken and in need of repair after the numerous battles Spock had gotten into, and Jim could see his lean muscles, see each one relaxing and contracting as he approached, a light shine to his skin from either sweat or water. This Spock was not his Spock. This Spock was purely primal, acting on instinct. Animalistic, but still with that dangerous, quiet intelligence.

Jim's mouth went dry. He could not help but take in this new Spock. This very attractive Spock. Completely unrestrained Spock. For a moment, he forgot this was a competition and needed to move when given the opportunity. For whatever reason, Spock had chosen to come out of hiding instead of shooting him from his hiding spot. He had chosen to come nearer instead of keeping his distance from Jim.

Spock stood, his fierce gaze solely focused on Jim's face. Their faces were only inches apart, yet Spock did not attack him. Instead, he spoke in a low, husky voice. Something similar to lustful if Jim didn't know better. "You wish to challenge me?"

Jim nodded, his brain still short circuited from this strange development. What the hell had happened to Spock while he was gone? It was like he had been reprogrammed or something, and he wasn't sure if he liked or hated the affect it had on him.

"I accept your challenge." Spock leaned forward, his lips brushing against the human's ear. "Run, Tiberius. Let us see if you can keep me from pinning you down again."

The trap vanished, the time having expired on it. Jim fell but managed to land on his hands instead of his head and ran. He had to get out of the forest. The forest was too much of a field advantage for Spock. While Jim had pride in his speed, he realized Spock was just as fast and had dexterity that surpassed his to boot. With Spock's lean elven body, he maneuvered faster through the trees than he could ever dream with grace that would make anyone jealous, and Spock was quickly catching up. Spock had his bow already aiming at his back. He couldn't shoot that accurately with them both moving could he?

He found out as Spock leapt over a log and released his arrow simultaneously. Jim dodged, barely. The arrow skinned his left arm. If he hadn't dodged, it would have hit his heart. Not an instantaneous death, but it would cause more damage than a normal hit to the torso.

He was going to lose. He needed to get himself under control again. Spock's sudden change in behavior had thrown him off his game. He needed to regain that balance. But it was hard to do while being chased and avoiding other well laid out traps. Spock had thought this through, forcing him to take certain paths so he could predict his movements and shoot more accurately. This was only a game, but it felt so real right then. He was being hunted by Spock, and the elf man was determined.

Jim saw the ledge. It was going to be a gamble. He would live or die. If he lived and Spock stopped chasing him, he'd have time to heal and regroup. If Spock did chase him, Jim would have advantage in the open terrain for close range combat and Spock would have less life than he would, assuming Spock survived the jump. If he survived, which was likely, he would turn the battle to his favor. So he jumped.

He felt himself become weightless as he fell, focusing on limiting the damage of his fall, his feet digging into the canyon wall to slow down the fall. As he fell he looked above him to see what Spock would do. Spock didn't hesitate. He jumped far away from the ledge not attempting to slow himself down at all so he could beat Jim to the ground. While in mid air, he held a purple amulet in his hands and crushed it with his bare hands. Jim paled recognizing the item. Spock must have saved that item exclusively for his fight against Jim, knowing what Jim would plan if he was cornered.

Spock reached the ground first, completely unharmed thanks to the item while Jim was in the red. He didn't have time to grab a potion. Spock was already aiming at him waiting for him to hit the ground, again giving Jim a chance to think his way out.

They so needed a rematch, Jim thought as he charged at Spock, activating his skill to increase his speed. Spock shot, and Jim blocked with his sword. Spock was open until he got another arrow. He had an opening.

Jim planned to attack before Spock had a chance to reload his customized arrow, the one that did more damage that Spock tended to favor. The elf looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Unexpectedly, Spock reequipped for a short sword, blocking Jim's attack and deflecting it. He moved swiftly, taking a step forward to get close into Jim's space and limit his attacks. Jim was struggling to maneuver his sword to block with so little space. Spock had a smaller weapon, easier and faster to move, and while Jim specialized in close combat, this was too close, not even a foot between them. He could feel Spock's heavy breath on his skin as he struggled to parry the attacks. One bad block and Spock would KO him. He couldn't regain his balance. He had no idea Spock had trained in the short sword as well, and Spock moved as if it was second nature to him.

Even so, Jim was doing well holding his own, considering how off balanced he was. His health was slowly recharging. The longer this fight dragged on, the more of an advantage he would get. Spock still lacked armor for his torso. Jim parried, knocking Spock's center of balance off, and Jim managed to put some distance between them so he could use his sword properly.

Jim took a deep breath, re-centering himself in time for Spock's attack. He didn't let Spock get as close as he had last time. With a longer reach, he was able scratch Spock's chest and arms even if he was blocked, gradually depleting Spock's life. It was Jim's turn to be smug. He was getting back into the rhythm of things, and this was definitely the most intense fight he'd ever had. Now he needed to finish it before I-Chaya found a safe way down the cliff.

He was pushing Spock back until Spock managed to use a slow spell, slowing his movements and causing him damage, making Jim go back into the red. They were even, the deciding factor being who was going to slip first.

Spock used a melee attack, sacrificing his arm to block Jim's attack, to hit Jim's gut with the hilt of his sword, making Jim stumble back. He proceeded to sweep Jim's legs out from under him, making the human fall. Those moves, Jim realized, were from actual training and practice. He didn't get to dwell on it though. Spock pinned him to the ground, panting heavily above him.

Jim moved to struggle. Spock growled. "You will submit."

Jim shivered at the command, his heart beating out of his chest. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Spock. "I won't submit. Why don't you finish me already and stop jerking me around."

"You are a very irritable human." Spock was inches away from him again. What was he planning to do? He leaned closer. His mouth moved to say something when both of them were struck with an arrow, effectively depleting the rest of their life points.

* * *

"And the winner is FencingNut!"

Jim ignored the cheers of the people around him. This entire thing was bullshit. They were taken out by a guy who barely had 10 kills the entire game. He had been hiding the entire time taking out opponents who were already almost dead. While the strategy itself had merit, where was the fun in that?

After they had both KOed, Spock had been nowhere to be seen. Spock and he had taken eleventh and twelfth place respectively. Though they had taken second and third for the amount of kills, and both tied for first in strategy and tactics, and Spock and his battle had been chosen as the most exciting confrontation in the game. It was speculated that if they hadn't wounded each other, they would have taken first and second easily.

So he watched the rest of the announcements in the IDIC Tavern on the view screen. The winner of the battle royale won some cool items as well as a hundred credit cash prize. Jim would have been jealous, but he had received much more as compensation for coming up with the idea. He used part of the reward to pay Bones back for the money he spent buying the game and a bottle of whiskey. Bones had never been so happy with him. Granted the happiness only lasted a day before it was back to scowling and threatening people with hypos. At least he was more gentle than usual for a few weeks.

I-Chaya trotted in. He was back to being that friendly, social creature that had been following him around for nearly a month now instead of a frightening enemy trying to eat him. I-Chaya rubbed his head against Jim's leg, purring.

Not bothering to push the sehlat away, Jim stood and headed to the palace. He wanted to see Spock and check up on him. The behavior the elf had displayed had been so out of the ordinary, Jim didn't even have a frame of reference to describe such a stark contrast. He was concerned, and he was conflicted. Why had he reacted the way he did to Spock? What had he hoped would happen when Spock had gotten so close to him? He didn't know.

He didn't bother knocking. As the city was filled with competitors and more crowded than usual, they all stared in awe as he entered through the large doors. That was something he had yet to get used to. All the attention was annoying. He had enough of it as a child. Now, between the Nero Event, talking to Spock, and gaining I-Chaya as a pet he had gained the attention and curiosity constantly. The doors closed automatically behind him.

"Spock!" he called out, peeking into some of the many rooms as he did. "You here?"

He received no answer. Frowning, he started up the stairs. He knew Spock was still online so where was he?

The front door opened the moment he reached the top of the stairs. Thinking it was Spock, he turned too quickly and fell back down to the bottom.

A very feminine giggle came from the door's direction. It obviously wasn't Spock. He groaned, opening one eye, afraid to see who had witnessed his embarrassing moment. His vision filled with that of a beautiful woman with loose, dark brown curls that reached her mid back, and warm, brown eyes conveying her mirth looked down at him.

Stunned, it took a moment for him to realize he was still on his back looking up at her from the floor. Scrambling to his feet, he flushed. "L-lady Grayson." He coughed to clear his throat. "Lady Grayson. Sorry you had to see that." The recovery was a bit late, and she still looked amused, but at least his voice was stronger and more confident instead of that of an embarrassed teen. "It's nice to see you again. You probably don't remember me, but I met you at your demonstration a while back."

"I remember you," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Tiberius, right? The one who debated with me on which weapons were more practical to use in the game? I almost convinced you to switch to a saber."

"Almost," he smiled back. "I'm honored you remember me, and I don't say that to anyone."

"I'm sure," she laughed. "I was quite impressed today by your mastery of the battle system. You've overcome some of the limitation when it comes to maneuverability and combo sequences."

"If I hadn't seen your demonstration, I would have never figured it out, so I guess I should thank you. However, I wasn't good enough since I came in twelfth place."

The woman huffed. She barely came up to his chin, but she definitely had presence. "You played against the best opponent too early. If you and Spock had fought at the end, you would have at the very least been second if not first. You would have had the highest kill count too if you hadn't sat out the first two hours observing."

So she had been watching the entire competition. He vaguely remembered hearing she was with the commentary people on the channel covering the event. "So, what are you doing here?" Jim asked.

She gave him a mischievous smile that made him uncomfortable. He recognized that smile. It was the same one he gave to people when he was about to really screw with them. "Spock, dear! Come down!"

Jim's eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

The door to the left of the top of the stairs creaked open and a visibly shocked Spock emerged. His eyes were wide with alarm.

"There you are dear. You shouldn't keep guests waiting." She reprimanded. "Come on down here."

Spock quietly came down the stairs. He was no longer wearing his armor. Instead, he wore the robes Jim had first found him in. The primal look in Spock's eyes had disappeared though there were still signs of raw emotions flashing across them occasionally. Right now, Spock just looked plain old nervous.

"Haven't I taught you better manners than that?" She said gently, moving to fix his collar.

Spock's hands gently enclosed around hers, stilling her movements. At this point, Jim's mouth was wide open in shock. Spock never touched anyone, let alone their hands.

"Of course, Mother. I apologize for my rude behavior."

Jim gaped. "Mother?!"

"You did wonderfully in the competition, Spock. I'm so proud of you." She ignored the man's outburst in favor of smiling at Spock.

"The results were less than desirable; however I have collected very valuable data as a result. I will send you the patch update by tomorrow evening." Spock removed his hands, placing them behind his back.

"Now, now, Spock, I didn't come here to talk about the update. I came to see you. Though, I didn't know you had a guest." She glanced at Tiberius.

"I would have messaged you tonight," Spock said.

"Yes you would have, but it's not the same meeting in person . . . kind of."

Jim watched them, putting the pieces together. Lady Grayson was a relative of the creator of the game. Spock was a relative. Spock just mentioned he was working on the patch for the game. Spock can bend the rules of the game whenever he feels like it as well as create a unique character only he has. "You're . . . you're the creator of the game?"

Spock looked at his mother, sending her a silent message. Jim didn't pay too much attention, wrapping his head around it all. He didn't know what to feel. All he knew was that he had to leave.

"Tiberius?" Spock called out to him.

Jim's head shot up. "I just wanted to check to see if you were alright Spock. Looks like you are, so I'm going to head on out. Bone's is probably cranky I haven't cooked dinner yet anyway." He was backing up toward the door.

"I will see you tomorrow in our usual place?" It came out as a question.

"Uh, we'll see. I have a test, and I might need to put off the game for a bit. I'll let you know tomorrow." His laugh came out awkwardly. "See you later." Without waiting for a reply, he left.

Spock looked at the door Tiberius had left through. "He is angry."

"I wouldn't say angry. Confused maybe." Amanda said thoughtfully.

"You should not have revealed your relationship to me." The look he gave his mother was reprimanding, but his mother just shrugged it off.

"He would have found out eventually, dear. He's your . . . . friend." The way she said it made it seem like friend wasn't the word she wanted to choose. Spock didn't get a chance to question her though as she ask, "So what happened out there?"

Spock became rigid as he always did when broaching an uncomfortable subject. "The competition seemed to have heightened the players' emotions. With so many players in close proximity to me, my shields started to crack. I . . . I became influenced by their emotions."

"And since the main emotions were related to finding and hunting other players, you essentially went back to pre-Surak times and became a warrior like your ancestors."

Spock gave a curt nod. "I need to enhance the limiters on my helmet, so my telepathy does not lose control again."

"Will you be alright to continue the game?" The question was a legitimate one, and her eyes were filled with concern.

He felt guilty for making her worry then pushed the guilt back behind his shields. "I require more meditation. My shields should be more than satisfactory in approximately 45 minutes."

"Alright. Be safe Spock. And also . . . perhaps you should tell Tiberius about yourself."

"What you are suggestion Mother is quite dangerous. We have yet to determine if humans are ready to know about us."

"I am not saying to tell him everything Spock, but ─", she rubbed her face, looking older than she was for a moment. "Tell him about I-Chaya, some of your childhood. Let him see the real you. Let him know you."

"For what purpose?" He asked.

"Trust me Spock. It will do well for your friendship with him."

"I will consider it, Mother."

"It is all I can ask." Spock watched his mother leave before logging out himself.

* * *

Spock withheld a sigh, noting the time. He was late meeting Tiberius, but it was not like he could shirk his duties. His weekly meetings with T'Pring were trying. She questioned much of his findings with her own. He would say the humans had certain morals that most lived by; she would say that humans had little morals at all. He believed most humans were opened minded if given time to adjust; she would say they were close minded and fearful to new ideas. It was a constant struggle. He was getting more pull barely only because he was directly observing and interacting with them. She was countering by saying that humans were prone to lie and be on their best behavior when being watched.

The halls of the academy were quiet. The students and faculty walked with purpose to their destination, and few spoke to one another. Those who did speak in the hallway spoke in quiet controlled voices. He would imagine that at Tiberius's institution of learning, the hallways were loud and full of activity with students loitering around socializing. He could imagine Tiberius, leaning against the wall, laughing and joking with Bones and other faceless humans up until it was time for lessons to begin. Tiberius didn't do well sitting still. The human would probably fiddle with his writing implement or with his PADD in class.

"Greetings, Spock. It is unexpected to see you at the institution." Two Vulcans, two who Spock knew quite well, stood in front of him, blocking the path to his destination.

"I am needed in the computer lab. Is there something you need of me this instant?"

They must not have liked his tone of voice for they did not move. "Have you satisfied your emotional needs by mingling with the humans already? It was estimated that you would continue to spend your time socializing with the inferior species for at least another 3.63 months. Perhaps you find satisfaction in socializing with them because you have finally discovered a species whose intelligence is as low as yours?"

"I find it interesting that you consider them an inferior species when the humans are the first species to develop a plausible transwarp theory equation. If I recall correctly, you have spent 7.92 years trying to do the same." Spock spoke calmly, watching in fascination when the other Vulcan's eyebrow rose in anger.

"You are telling a falsehood. The probability for an inferior species to create a plausible theory with their substandard technology is 1 in 4,235,935."

"Meaning there is still a probable chance. What is more probable is that you have not properly calculated the variable for human intelligence. As I have discovered while observing them, what they lack in vast amounts of general knowledge, they make up for in creativity and persistence. Thus why they have a working theory, and we do not."

That stunned them into silence. While they were hoping to provoke an emotional response from him, he had learned to shoot them down with logic.

He walked away before they could resort to insults about his mother. His shields were still weak from the barrage of human emotions the day before. If they spoke of his mother, he knew he would not be able to control himself. He would not dishonor his house further by getting into another fight even if the odds of him winning against them were high in his favor. There was not a part of him that found that thought satisfactory . . . alright maybe a minuscule part. He would chalk it down to human contamination.

He should repress that feeling, but Spock decided not to. It would be alright as long as it didn't show, and currently, he felt quite content with himself. He stopped walking, shocked by that thought. He felt . . . content. It was a new feeling. He was more than satisfactory, more than just moving from day to day going through the motions.

He anticipated his meetings with Tiberius in the evenings. He found the human to be mentally stimulating, and he was learning more than he ever had about human history and culture. Jim had recently recommended Mark Twain and Shakespeare for him to read. After his meetings with Tiberius, he would read them before retiring for bed. While he had trouble understanding the play _Romeo and Juliet_ , he was very intrigued by _Hamlet_. The _Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn_ was next on his reading list.

He took out his PADD to tell Tiberius he would be unable to make it today. He got a message almost immediately back saying it was fine and I-Chaya was lounging on his bed. Similar to what his I-Chaya used to do. He felt the corners of his lips pull up at the memory.

A message showed up in his mailbox. As it was from his mother, he found a quiet spot and opened the message. His mother's warm eyes stared back at him. It appeared she was outside, a clear blue sky in the background and the sun very bright, causing a bit of a lens flare. "Sorry, to message you so early Spock, but I was not going to be able to get to a terminal today. I just wanted to tell you that I was going to be out of touch for a few days. The patch has already been uploaded. The game will be down temporarily for an hour or so tonight for the update." Where ever his mother was, it seemed to be in public. Spock could pick up bits and pieces of conversation from the nearby humans. There seemed to be quite a few wherever his mother was.

"Just wanted to say that I love you." His mother paused apparently distracted by someone passing by. "I'll be heading home to see you in a few months. It will be a short visit home, but I miss you so much. So look forward for my visit, and tell your father to message me more often. I swear if I'm not there, he will work himself to death."

Spock ignored his mother's exaggeration. Jim was the same way, so he was getting used to it. "Love you, Spock. Take care of yourself."

Spock paused the video and replayed it, stopping at the part where his mother paused, enhancing the background noise and the background. It was still difficult to hear though with so much white noise in the background but he definitely heard it. "Come on Bones. We finished our exams, play with me?"

"I'm not letting you rot my mind with that thing. You just don't want to be left alone with that computer."

"You're such a spoiled sport."

He enhanced the background more seeing two men, both in red uniforms with their back towards the camera. One had dark hair; the other had short wheat colored hair. He would recognize that voice anywhere though. The color of the hair was similar too. Did Tiberius keep his appearance similar to that of the real world? He wanted to know. The man beside him was obviously Bones with his dark hair and southern drawl. His mother must have recognized the voice as he had and stopped speaking in case he overheard.

His mother and Tiberius lived in the same city. If he went to visit his mother . . .

He dismissed the thought. What he was thinking held no logic, and Tiberius might not even want to meet him in real life. He shouldn't assume that the human online and the human offline were the same people. Humans were not always honest online. Not to mention the human did not know he was actually an alien. There was no telling how he would take it.

He stared at the image of the young man's back a little longer. He turned off the PADD and put it back in his bag, heading to the labs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Comment!


	6. Tempermental Humans and Moody Vulcns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, only edited by myself and heavensevangel. My real Beta should get back to me eventually.

Spock had been unable to meet with Tiberius for two days. The result was not favorable. He found the constant quiet to be disconcerting, the subtle abhorrent feelings toward him tiring, and the not so subtle misconceptions and bigotry towards humans trying. It was not logical to prefer one person company over another’s. Humans were overly emotional, loud, often obnoxious or arrogant in one way or another, and were not up to his intellectual standards. And while Vulcans practiced patience, calm, and control, these were things that he had previously found distasteful.

He still found them unpleasant in some regards. After being in the game for long periods of time, he found his desire to relocate to a quiet place with only a low hum of emotions in the background preferable and perhaps a light conversation on scientific discoveries and research. However, with Tiberius’s absence, he was noticing a balance he had created for himself tipping. There was something with his meetings with the human that created the equilibrium within himself. Now with it missing, he was more aware of certain aspects of his being that he pushed away or had never acknowledged. After all, how could you miss camaraderie when you never had it in the first place? Or recognize the feelings and their counterparts associated with that sort of relationship?

Vulcans did not require friends. When a Vulcan did make a friend it was rare and precious, but it did not mean Vulcans did not have preferences to the company of specific individuals even If they would never admit it aloud. Spock always thought he was excelling when it came to being aloof and self-dependent. In that regard, he was more Vulcan than all of them. He had ties to no one. Now he knew what he was being denied and denying himself.

Spock checked his messages again. Tiberius had not responded to his message to meet, and according to his data; Tiberius had definitely opened the e-mails, meaning he was deliberately ignoring him. Was his initial assessment correct? Was the human actually angry at him? He could not see the logic as to why he would be. Tiberius was unrelenting in his quest to discover Spock’s true identity. The information should please, not irritate him. Spock was finding irritation over the illogicalness of it all which only caused more frustration when he realized that feeling irritable over something illogical was illogical. For a moment ─ a very brief moment at that as Spock was determined to dismiss the thought from the forefront of his memories ─ he agreed with Horatio that the word illogical was accursed.

“Spock, do you find this meeting to be so tedious and have so much certainty in your arguments that you would completely disregard T’Pring’s observations while showing impertinence by continuously sending messages during her presentation.”

Spock gracefully turned off his PADD and laid it down on the table, not showing a sign that he was flustered or perturbed by the accusation or let slip the embarrassment of doing something completely human.

Looking up at the Sorik with only a raised eyebrow, he replied, “Negative. While my presence at this meeting is important, I also have duties and decisions that do not have a specified timetable and must be taken care of promptly. As I am more than adept to listen to T’Pring’s statements while tending to Terran side business, I do not see any reason not to do so.” Did he just imply that he had duties and decisions that required his immediate attention that really equated to his personal problems with Tiberius in front of a room full of Vulcans? He really needed to stop spending time with Jim if his habits continued to rub off on him. While he hadn’t really lied, he definitely misled them with the full intention to have them reach with a false conclusion.

Sorik thinned his lips, the only sign he conceded to Spock’s logic though he did not like it. “Very well. Continue T’Pring.”

“The data received from the psychic readings of all who were involved in this “Battle Royale” event was conclusively similar in that all the players were displaying conspicuous amounts of aggression and rage. It is irrefutable evidence that humans have no qualms about turning on one another and causing harm. There were also readings that the humans found enjoyment from the act.”

Spock felt himself grow stiff at her accusations. It was all wrong. She did not understand human emotionalism like he did, and while he might have agreed with her if the battle royale was the only event he had participated in, it was not. He had spent time in the presence of a few humans and felt light touches of their emotions against his shields in many situations and was slowly figuring out why they felt that emotion in certain situations and what it meant.

Sorik noticed his obvious disagreement. “Spock, you have a counter to T’Pring’s facts.” It wasn’t a question. He always did. T’Pring wasn’t out to contradict him. He was aware of that. She was taking the standard Vulcan approach and logic to the situation; however, logic did not do well in describing humans.

“T’Pring is mistaken in her analysis of the data.”

“It is not unexpected that you would believe so Spock. You have been adamant in creating counterarguments.” T’Pring replied, sitting down as gracefully as ever.

“As I have stated before, humans are not a logical race. Because they are not logical, it is a reasonable conclusion that we cannot analyze humans with logic alone. A basis is needed so that proper comparisons can be made.

“Humans find competition to be a positive way to release stress. The humans are well aware that they are in a game and that no harm will come to their opponents. The aggression stems from the adrenaline created from battle. While it is a simulation, it is still very real to the human mind. The battles stimulate their instinct to fight, creating the feeling of aggression. Anger stems from the disappointment of losing the competition or another player wronging them. Some will think they lost unfairly or it is possible they made an error in their strategy. In our last discussion, I had made the comment that this anger does not normally last for more than a day nor is it potent enough for the humans to act upon their anger against the source of it. Some humans come to the game to release their anger created from real life situations in a safe environment where it can do no harm to others. Lastly, the enjoyment is from obtaining victory. The human subject that I am studying closely often finds enjoyment when he has overcome a rather difficult obstacle and when his strategies and ideas are successful. I have detected no ill will from him other than the occasional frustration towards other humans.

“In summary, it is not logical to just analyze what emotions they are feeling, but the causes behind them and how they manage them.”

“A logical deduction Spock. Your counterargument has been noted.”

Another hour of this debate continued. Spock did not speak again, observing his colleague’s opinions. Most did not wander from the standard deviation. Tiberius would say they were “stuck in their ways.” He felt inclined to agree. Perhaps the real concern should be whether humans would want first contact with them.

Tiberius was online when he finally got home. Seeing the helmet sitting on his desk, he felt relief wash through him. He could continue his own studies and observations tonight without everyone trying to disprove him. Putting away his things methodically, he went over how he should greet Tiberius. He was going to disregard his mother’s recommendation of speaking about himself. The less Tiberius knew of him, the longer he could stay.

He laid down on his bed and put on the helmet. Briefly, he remembered that he should have enhanced the limiters on his device, but he did not have time to do so. There was a 96.935 percent chance that this would not be a problem. He only planned to be around Tiberius.

Tiberius was not in the meeting place though. Nor was he in the palace or the taverns or forum room. He doubled checked and sure enough he was logged in.

Spock sent a message telling him of his arrival. He watched the notification open, but he did not receive a message back. Frowning, he looked into the system to see Tiberius’s location. He was two continents away on a beach. One of the less popular beaches in the game at that.

Using the short way of getting to his destination, Spock used his control of the system to send himself to the location instead of going there by foot which would have taken hours. While transportation crystals were nice, they only allowed you to go to places you have been to before and only to the village in the area. Spock had never been to the continent, so this was his only option.

The beach was surrounded by a large marble cliff which was a straight drop off, discouraging players from jumping down to enjoy the white pristine sand below them or the clear blue waters of the ocean. There were two players making out on one side of the beach, a sight Spock was eager to look away from. On the other side was Tiberius. He had removed all his armor except his briefs, and he was lying back in the sand, looking up into the sky with a dazed expression on his face. He approached, wondering why the human would ignore his messages. As he did, he noticed scars across the tanned body. One did not get scars playing the game, so Tiberius had to have put them there himself. Was it another human male display at pretending to be “macho” as Horatio had put it?

“You have not been responding to my messages. Have you been busy?”

Tiberius did not seem surprised that Spock had suddenly spoken up. In fact, if anything, he looked annoyed. “I thought you would get the hint and leave me alone.” Cold. Tiberius’s voice was cold and unfeeling. One that rivaled a Vulcan’s. It made Spock feel cold as well. Illogical, he told himself. “I see you found me anyway.”

“You are angry. I do not understand.”

Tiberius shot up into a sitting position, his eyes boring into Spock’s. “Did you think it was funny? Did you find it amusing that I was trying to teach you about your own game? Did you have a good laugh at how philosophical I got about your creation when I wasn’t looking?”

“I do not feel amusement nor do I find laughter appealing. Especially when you are not present.”

“Do not give me that emotionless crap! I know you’re human already. You’re secret’s out! So stop the superior than thou bullshit! So what if you’re a fucking genius?! I already told you the world doesn’t want geniuses! Smart people are cool when they are doing some project, but not outside of that.”

Spock frowned, stepping closer. “You were not this upset, two days ago when I messaged you that I could not arrive to our meeting. Has something happened?”

“I had time to think, and I realized you were just fucking with me, so just leave me alone.”

“Tiberius . . .” Spock didn’t get to finish what he was saying. Jim angrily opened his menu and logged off. Dismayed at what just happened, Spock felt a bit disoriented. This was not how he planned to spend his evening.

A message appeared in his inbox and he found himself opening it quickly, expecting to see a message from Tiberius. He repressed the disappointment when it came from Horatio instead, asking to meet at the monastery in twenty minutes. He was going to decline, not much in the mood to continue playing. He told Horatio this. The man replied that it was urgent. Well that’s what Spock translated it to. The actual message mentioned something about a ticking bomb exploding and infants giving him a headache. While most of the message had him confused, he got the impression that it was vital he talked to the man. Checking to see if Tiberius had really gone offline, which he had, he set in coordinates to the monastery.

While he waited, Spock browsed through the shops looking for something to catch his eye. In his research he had found that giving a gift as well as showing remorse was a good way to apologize to someone. He did not quite understand what he had done, but he knew he did not want Tiberius to leave the way he did.

Nothing stood out to him, so he had to meet Horatio empty handed and leaving Spock more irritable. It was slipping through his shields. What he required was meditation, not another human.

Horatio was waiting on the steps. His staff had been placed in his inventory. His robes had been replaced with dark blue boots, black slacks, light blue shirt and a white cloak. The man refused to wear a pointy hat that most mages seemed to favor. The man looked tired, his eyes half lidded, his scowl lacking its severity. He looked up at Spock’s approach nodding at him in greeting. “Take a seat.” He gestured to a spot on the stairs.

“I would prefer to remain standing.” Spock stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at the human who did not seem to like his response.

“I don’t know what he sees in you,” he muttered under his breath not intending for Spock to hear. Never the less, Spock did hear him. “Fine, have it your way if you’re going to be so stubborn. We’ll walk and talk.” Horatio stood and walked past Spock. “Are you coming or not? I don’t have daylight to burn dawdling about. I want to be in and out and hit the hay and call it a night.”

“If you wish to sleep instead, we can have this conversation at a later date.”

The mage glared at him. “Light a fire under that ass and get moving.”

Spock seriously wondered where the doctor had learned English. Only he seemed to employ an extensive use of metaphors and exaggerations, even for a human. Spock followed, matching the man’s stride. “What did you wish to speak about?”

“It’s about Ji─ Tiberius. You two had an argument right?”

Spock wanted to say that it was not really an argument since he had not been able to say anything back to the man before he stormed off. “He was displeased with me, and I do not understand why. He wished to find out what I was, but when he did, he was angry.”

McCoy stopped under a tree just outside of town and just far enough off the path so that other players did not wander too close and overhear. “Look, I’m going to be blunt. The kid is difficult sometimes. He keeps his distance from people and closes himself off when they get too close. I’m his best friend and probably his only real friend. I mean, there are people he hangs out with and he’d do a lot for them, but none of them really know what’s beneath what he shows them. He doesn’t want them to know what’s underneath. He’ll put up a façade and pretend he’s invulnerable to any obstacle and hurt thrown his way, but the truth is, he’s battered and bruised on the inside and doing what he can to keep himself together. And then there’s you.”

McCoy gave him a pointed look. “Somehow the kid became attached to you almost overnight. Won’t shut up about you. The only reason I came into this game was to meet you to make sure that one, he hadn’t finally lost it, and two to make sure you weren’t going to break him. As many defenses as that kid’s built, I was nervous as hell at how easily you got through them, and I think it scared the hell out of him when he realized that too and he had no idea who you really are.

“He’s been hurt a lot. Betrayed and used by people he trusted because he didn’t know them, didn’t see the signs. And now he’s feeling betrayed even though he knew going in that he wasn’t going to know the real you, not entirely anyway. And he realized how much of himself he opened to you and how vulnerable he is because of it, so he’s pushing you away before he can get hurt.”

“It is not logical to assume I will do something to hurt him when he has no evidence to support that theory,” Spock said quietly.

“Yeah, well when people get hurt, they are hesitant repeating whatever they did to get hurt in the first place. The kid’s still young and no matter how smart he is, those scars he got when he was younger will make him hesitate when it comes to getting close to people again.” McCoy took a sip from a flask that wasn’t there before.

“Why are you informing me of Tiberius’s troubled past? Would it not be more beneficial for you to utilize your knowledge to help him as an alternative?”

“Like talking to a computer,” Horatio muttered. “Look, I think this game is horrible for him. It’s too easy to get addicted to it, but for some reason, J-Tiberius likes you. I’ve never seen him act the way he does around you. He actually acts like a college student enjoying life instead of a drunken idiot looking for trouble cause he secretly hates it. Sure, I could go out drinking with him and hear him moan and complain, but it wouldn’t fix anything.”

“And what exactly do you have in mind? I tried to converse with Tiberius this afternoon, and he explicitly expressed that he did not want me to bother him.”

The human rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I don’t know, you’re the one with the big brain. Video chat with him, send him an email. Just do something so he’ll stop moping and getting pissy at me about it.”

It baffled the Vulcan how Horatio could be kind and caring at one moment then completely change his tone to make it sound as if his own comfort was the only thing that mattered to him. “I will attempt to speak with him again.”

“That is all I can ask.”

Horatio logged out immediately after their conversation leaving Spock to do the same.

He wondered all night how he would go about getting Tiberius’s attention. He briefly considered a video chat. He’d have to hide his ears and eyebrows and bounce the signal from his mother’s terminal, but it was too risky. Jim was good with computers. If the human decided to trace the signal and realize that Spock was lying about his location; it could do more harm than good. He also considered sending a message. Spock disregarded the idea because he knew he would not be able to correct himself once it was sent. That left forcing Tiberius to listen. That could go either way. Tiberius could either get very mad and never speak to him again, or he would actually listen. It was also his only viable option.

Spock started to write a program that would transport and trap Tiberius in his home the moment he logged in until Spock was ready for him to leave.

* * *

Jim was furious. The moment he logged into the game, he was transported to an unfamiliar place. It only took a few minutes for him to find out he was in Spock’s bedroom. He had never actually been in the bedroom before. It consisted of a full bed, a dresser, a mirror, and what appeared to be a meditating alcove. He tried to leave, but a force field kept him in. Logging out also proved futile when he found the log out button missing from his menu.

He was forced to wait half an hour before Spock entered the room. He thought about yelling at him. He wanted to, but he knew a worse punishment was completely ignoring him. He made himself comfortable on the bed, reading over the newsletter trying to pretend that the elf wasn’t in the room.

Spock remained silent which made Jim curious. He kept his eyes glued to the menu, trying hard not to look up to see what Spock was doing, yet there was still no noise from the elf. Minutes passed in silence and the smell of incense filled the room. The silence was grating.

Jim looked up to see the elf mediating, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed. It was very similar to the routine Spock performed before going on a hunt except the elf seemed to be more out of it than usual. Fine, if Spock was going to be like that, he wasn’t going to be the first to speak. He wasn’t going to break.

So the silence stretched and stretched and stretched. Jim tried not to look up at Spock. Was he really going to just sit there and say nothing? What was the point of locking him in here then if he wasn’t going to say anything?

Just as Jim was about to break, wishing for Spock to say anything at this point, Spock spoke in a quiet voice. “When I was a child, I used to have a pet named I-Chaya. He was my best friend and very similar to your I-Chaya. He would lie on my bed taking in the afternoon sun and kept me warm on cooler nights.”

It was a random topic, Jim thought. Even so, he found himself closing the news letter and focusing on Spock. Spock did not leave his meditative position, nor did he open his eyes.

“I come from a rather isolated place where emotions are discouraged and the pursuit of knowledge is what is to be strived for. We are told to suppress our emotions at a very young age. My father followed the tradition of his people, that is until he married my mother who was bred in a city very much like yours. You have become acquaintances with my mother. She is very expressive. Perhaps she is restrained to what you are accustomed to, but to my father’s people, she stands out greatly. I am told by my peers that I have my mother’s eyes. Her very expressive eyes. As a result, I was often criticized by my peers and informed that I did not belong, that I was inferior to them because of my lack of control. As a result, I-Chaya became very . . . important to me.”

Spock opened his eyes. There was an underlying sadness in them. “My people still follow ancient traditions however. When a child turns seven, they are left in the wilderness and are to return on their own without assistance. I was overly eager to prove myself to my peers. That I was really one of them. I left early, and I was not prepared. I was attacked by another predator. It had me cornered and was about to pounce, when I-Chaya found me and chased the attacker away. While I was safe, I-Chaya received a fatal blow during the fight. I was forced to put him down else watch him die a slow painful death. I never cared for anything after that. I-Chaya served his purpose. He was meant to teach me about responsibility and to protect me. He fulfilled his duty well.”

Jim was holding his breath during the tale, feeling the grief Spock was adamant about hiding. It didn’t look like the story affected the elf. He told it without any inflection as if he was reporting the weather. Jim could see the way Spock’s fists clenched just slightly or the way his shoulder slumped forward a small fraction. Small tells he had learned over the weeks of spending his time with Spock.

“Did you gain the recognition from your peers after that?” Jim felt inclined to ask.

“Negative. I have made many contributions and have received the highest grades amongst my people, but I am still too . . . human . . . for them. After I-Chaya’s death, I made a full effort to be what was expected of me. I focused on my studies, ignored any feelings I might have had and didn’t acknowledge them. It hurt my mother, but I was not allowed to feel remorse for it. I do not socialize with my peers unless necessary, and the only peace I have found is in an artificial world I have created to study a world outside of my own.”

Spock told so much, and yet so little. He managed to convey his feelings and history without telling Jim where he lived or any other information that could indicate where he was from keeping himself safe from anyone looking to harm him. Smart.

Jim laid down on the bed. It smelled of unfamiliar spices. It had a calming effect on his mood as he thought of what to say. “My dad died the day I was born. Died protecting people from terrorists. He was the only casualty of what could have been a massacre of 400 people. My mom took it hard. She’s a good woman. She loved me and my brother a lot, but she loved space more. It reminded her of Dad I think. She would go to the moon and Mars colonies to do her work, leaving Sam and me alone with my uncle. He . . . wasn’t the loving fun uncle most people had. When my brother ran away, I couldn’t take living the good life anymore. I acted out. My grades fell and I got in trouble so often all the cops in the area and two towns over knew my name.

“I made several friends, all who turned their back to me if their asses were on the line. One group of friends I had, they were the first set I made after my brother left. They got in trouble with the local gang. Stole money from them or something. I wasn’t even sure what exactly they did. All I know is that they blamed the theft on me. After school, the gang found me and beat the shit out of me. In the end we all ended up in jail.” Jim paused. Why was he telling Spock this? He never even told McCoy about this. “While the gang members were let go on bail, I waited. My friends weren’t old enough to bail me out, not that they would even if they had the money and were old enough, and my uncle wasn’t going to let me out. The few relationships I made afterwards weren’t much better.

“I guess I was lucky somewhat. I wasn’t completely isolated from people like you, I wasn’t bullied, and I met a few good people along the way, but . . . those few bad days, were really bad days.” Jim turned his head to see Spock looking back at him. “Seems we’re both kind of screwed up.”

“Indeed. I believe Horatio would say, “Birds of a feather flock together?” I believe is the correct idiom.”

It sounded so strange coming from Spock’s mouth. He couldn’t suppress his laughter if he tried. “Yeah, Spock. That’s it, but we can’t be too messed up. I got a good career ahead of me, and you created this game, so we’re both exceeding expectations.”

“Does this mean you are no longer angry with me?”

The human sat up, looking down at his feet guiltily. “I’m sorry I was in the first place. Bones knew my history from the get go, and he has a psychology degree on top of his medical one, so I forget he had an idea on how to handle me from the beginning.”

“There is nothing to “handle” as you put it. While our relationship is more invigorating than what I am used to, I find your company stimulating and the extra effort required maintaining it gratifying.”

“Anything worth having is worked for huh. I should take a page out of your book.” Jim looked up from under his eyes lashes, smiling shyly. “Thank you, Spock. For talking me down.”

Deciding to ask what talking him down meant at another time, Spock bowed his head. “You’re thanks are not logical, but I will accept it in good will, Tiberius.”

“Jim.”

Spock looked up; meeting those blue eyes again, the shy smile a bit wider. A true look at the human underneath the façade, open and trusting. He would not betray that trust. “Pardon?”

“My real name is Jim.”

“Jim?” He repeated. Jim’s smile grew as the syllable left Spock’s lips. The human was positively radiating. Not scientifically possible for him to do so, but it was so none the less. “I find the name Jim much more suitable for your being. It is simple yet elegant and easy to pronounce, and hides its complexity.”

“Complexity? It’s a three letter word.”

“It is short for James is it not? Also a one syllable word yet another name was created from it that is also one syllable. For what purpose? And why was letter “i” incorporated into the diminutive of the name? For a simple name, it hides a certain enigma to it.”

Jim was all out grinning now. “So you like my name is what it boils down to.”

“I believe I just said that.” Spock rose from his spot on the floor.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

Spock raised an eyebrow conveying his amusement. “I have told you. I am called Spock.”

“You’re real name. It’s only fair.” Jim was waiting, Spock realized. Seeing what he would do. Spock was not a human name or at least one Jim had ever heard of, so he did not believe it was his real name. He was seeing if Spock would extend the same level of trust Jim had given him.

“My full name is S’khart’lan T’sai gadzhai Spo’k’hat’ndlawa.” His native language flowed of his tongue with practiced ease.

Jim’s eyes grew bug eyed. “Huh?” He said eloquently.

“In standard, my name is simply, S’chn T’gai Spock.”

Jim continued to stare. There was no way he could pronounce the first part of Spock’s name without hours of practice. Even “Spock” sounded different than how Spock normally pronounced it. “As I realize my name is difficult to pronounce, I simply go by Spock.”

“Spock,” Jim repeated, trying to match the way the elf had said it the second time.

Spock was impressed he managed to get close to the appropriate standard version. “There is no need focus your efforts on a matter so trivial. The pronunciation you have been using is more than adequate.”

“But that’s not really your name then if I say it wrong.”

A simple statement, yet Spock was warmed by it. “While the pronunciation is still slightly off, I prefer the way you pronounce it Jim.” There was a slight green to his cheeks that Jim noticed immediately.

“It’s a cool name. It’s all exotic.”

“My name has been the source of much scorn in my younger years.” Spock admitted, rolling up his meditation mat.

The human frowned. “Why?”

“My name has a very emotional meaning attached to it. While my mother loves my name and my father caved to her whims, my peers also thought the name was appropriate for me as it demonstrates my father’s betrayal on marrying an outsider.”

“And what does it mean?” Curiosity was eating at him. What definition could cause that much scorn?

Spock hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with the discussion of his name. It did nothing to abate the young human’s curiosity. “It means resembling half of each other’s heart and soul.”

Spock tensed, waiting for Jim to tease him like his peers had once done. Instead, he felt a warm arm slinging around his shoulders. “It’s a beautiful name. Screw anyone who says otherwise. It was your mom’s statement to the world that it was because of her and your dad’s love you were born, and a reminder to you that you’re loved and cared for. Anyone who doesn’t see how precious that is, can go jump out a window if they got something to say about it.”

Spock relaxed under the touch. “A lot of your statements about people who disagree with you involve some sort of violence.”

“Nice of you to notice.” A grin on Jim’s face told Spock he wasn’t serious, and Spock touched the bare hand to remove it from his shoulder.

The skin contact had him reeling and let go immediately.

“Hey, are you okay?” The voice was far away, barely registering with Spock as he tried to sort through the images that had bombarded him. He had seen glimpses of Jim’s memories, too jumbled, a mix of sharp and blurred images, to recognize much of anything, but he felt the emotions attached to them. Joy, anger, sadness, depression, hate, love, heartbreak, loneliness, fear, and hope. Hope was so small compared to the other predominant emotions, but it was attached to images of him through Jim’s eyes. Along with hope, came humor, happiness, and calm. Each emotion had grown stronger as images of him and Jim became more recent. Something inside him clicked.

Jim had let him go by the time he had regained his focus. Jim looked nervous and flustered, unsure of what to do. “Spock?” He said uncertainly.

He liked the way Jim said his name. “I am functional. It seems there was a malfunction with my helmet.” Like not improving the limiters on them like he should of.

“So you’re alright?”

“I am well. Do not worry.”

Jim wasn’t convinced, but it wasn’t like he could force what was wrong out of the elf. “Why don’t we watch a movie or something? I really want to see your take on the old classic _The Wizard of Oz_.”

For some reason, he was finding it hard to deny this man. “I find the idea most agreeable.”

* * *

 Jim logged off. No matter what, he could not wipe the smile off his face. He finished his homework in record time, did some early online shopping for the holidays, and was humming in the kitchen as he made dinner.

“I take it you made up with the hobgoblin.”

Jim turned to his roommate, smiling like a mad man. “While I’m sure you meddled in it somehow, yeah we worked things out. We watched _The Wizard of Oz_ after discussing some things. Turns out we both had shitty childhoods.”

“Right,” McCoy watched Jim, happily walk around their small kitchen preparing one of his delicious steaks with wine sauce and garlic mashed potatoes. “So you’re friends again.”

Jim stopped, his hand pausing in the middle of grabbing a beer. “Yeah,” he finally said, pulling out said beer. “He’s my friend.”

Normally, McCoy would be thrilled that Jim finally found another person who he could call his friend, he couldn’t help but wonder.

“You’re straight, right Jim?”

Jim laughed. “As far as I know, but I kind of like the idea of being bisexual. Just think about. No one in the galaxy would be safe from my sexual prowess.”

McCoy didn’t laugh along with him. “So that’s a no?”

“Seriously Bones, I’d think I’d know if I found males attractive. Why? Are you falling for me or something?” Jim was still grinning, and placed his roommate’s dinner in front of the doctor.

“Don’t flatter yourself kid. You’re not as pretty as you seem to think.”

Jim shrugged, making his own plate. The kid was happy. Happier than McCoy had ever seen him in the two years they had known each other, and Jim had never once hit on a man even when drunk. So why exactly did it feel like he had just helped his best friend get back together with his boyfriend?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment. They give me strength. Like spinach.


	7. Everyone Knows But the Lead Cliche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to slowly, be getting back into posting here after the whole, stole my story incident. Fanfiction has up to chapter 12 at this point, so if you're curious, read there.

Spock sat across from his father, staring into his Plomeek soup. The past week had been most satisfactory. While he and Tiberius, no, Jim, had gone out to level up occasionally, they had spent most of their time doing nothing, something he never thought he would enjoy. They would watch old earth movies, talk about the literature Spock had read at Jim's recommendation, and talk about anything and everything. There was absolutely nothing productive about what he was doing with Jim, but he was enjoying every minute of it.

"Spock, are any of the candidates agreeable with you?"

The sound of his father's voice pulled him out of his reveries. The dining room table was too big for just the two of them. While normally Vulcan homes had just enough seating for its occupants, Sarek's table served eight for diplomatic dinners and was made from smooth, chalky white rock with matching chairs made from wood. His father sat on one end, and he sat at the other.

Spock looked at the pictures and profiles in front of him. Four women, one man. However, none of them appealed to him. "Did any of the candidates submit their resume to you?"

His father said nothing, answering the question with his silence. His father had located them himself when no one had stepped forward. None of these candidates really wanted him or were even vaguely interested in him. They were just the only ones available.

Looking over the resumes again, he felt nothing. All of them were the same. Their jobs varied, but they were still dedicating their lives to knowledge. That was all there really was on them, various awards and recognitions for their work, but nothing else. Nothing to distinguish one person from the other. All dark haired and dark eyes. Not like Jim.

The previous good mood he was in drained out of him when he realized he would have to choose one of these people if no others became available in the next few years. "They are adequate. I have no preference; you may choose who you find acceptable." He was proud at how little his true feelings reflected in the tone of his voice.

He had expected his father to nod or make some comment about who he thought his son should bond to. Instead he watched his son carefully. "You do not wish to bond with these individuals."

To share a bond with another who disliked him was not a fate Spock was anticipating. He did not wish to perceive his bondmate's aversion to him nor did he wish for his bondmate to just tolerate his existence as T'Pring had. "What I wish for is of no importance if I desire to live through my time, assuming I will have one. Any of the candidates will do."

Sarek nodded, taking a bite of his salad. "You have been in higher spirits these past weeks. Are your projects going well?"

"Yes, my case study has been providing me with more access to his culture, directing me to important literature pieces, history, and media that is very influential to his race. It is a very enlightening experience. He is also well versed in politics, tactics, and computers. He provided a sample of his coding for a simulation he had reprogrammed for his exam. It was quite impressive. I suspect it would be on par with your abilities, Father, if he were to have access to more advanced computers.

His intelligence seems to be above the human norm; however, I believe if he truly is a representative of his race and not an outlier, first contact is quite promising." Once the subject of Jim was breeched, Spock could not hold back his discoveries and experiences. Jim was a fascinating subject, one he could not speak about often. They did not care about the subject itself but the results. Spock rarely had the opportunity to indulge himself.

His father listened. He had stopped in the middle of his meal, his eyes focused on his son, but his face gave nothing away. "May I see your data on him?"

Spock stopped in the middle of his discussion about the novel _1984_ that Jim had recommended to him. "Of course, Father." Spock retrieved the PADD from his bag he had put in the coat closet and returned, handing it to his father. His father took the PADD without comment, and Spock returned to his seat to finish the soup.

The first thing Sarek saw upon opening the file was a picture of a young, blond haired, blue eyed man, looking off somewhere to his left. His bright smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle and radiated energy. Underneath the picture was the name Tiberius with Jim in parenthesis.

Following the picture was one more picture this time of Tiberius, a dark haired man with blue eyes, and his son, his hair pushed back from the traditional bowl cut. Tiberius was in the center, arms around the other two men's shoulders pulling them closer, another smile on his face. The dark haired one was scowling at the man in the middle, and Spock's expression was one of discomfort as he was forced to take the photo. All three wore white cloaks that had snow clinging to the threads and stood in knee high water with a large leviathan surfacing behind them. The picture was a sentimental one and not for scientific purposes. Even Sarek could see that.

He glanced over the notes, noting the details of human interactions, mannerisms, customs, and colloquial speech. Soon it became talk of human philosophy, morals, and history. There were lists of things Tiberius recommended: books, movies, and music. Then there were more pictures of Tiberius. The man was nearly smiling in all of them. For a few pictures, Spock was dragged into them as well; though, his face was more relaxed in those photos and the discomfort from being touched was gone.

Lastly there was one encrypted file towards the end. Sarek waited for Spock to take the dishes to the kitchen before decrypting it. He was the one who taught Spock about computers after all. It was not a hard task. A video file opened. A room that looked similarly to Spock's, except for the color of the bedding, filled the screen. Spock held a rolled up meditation mat. He was stiff and kept his face carefully blank the way he always did when he was speaking of a subject he would rather avoid. Tiberius was standing just behind him.

"It means resembling half of each other's heart and soul."

Spock went stiff as if awaiting an attack of some sort, staring at a blank spot on the wall. Sarek watched as Tiberius walked up to his son, slinging an arm around his neck, smiling as he always seemed to do, but with soft eyes, and a gentle voice.

"It's a beautiful name. Screw anyone who says otherwise. It was your mom's statement to the world that it was because of her and your dad's love you were born, and a reminder to you that you're loved and cared for. Anyone who doesn't see how precious that is, can go jump out a window if they got something to say about it."

Spock's face visibly relaxed and there was a small smile there that the human would not have been able to see as he replied. "A lot of your statements about people who disagree with you involve some sort violence."

"Nice of you to notice," the blond replied before the video cut.

A frown pulled at Sarek's lips. He placed the PADD on the table top, carefully folding his hands as he thought. His son was 25 years old now. Out of those 25 years, Sarek had never seen Spock make such an expression, not since his very early childhood years when his wife had spoiled their son with as much of her culture as she could before he was too old to indulge in them anymore. A time when I-Chaya was still alive and Spock was still learning about control and what was to be expected of him.

He was well aware that Spock was withdrawn from his peers and preferred the solace of his room and lab instead of talking to others of his discoveries and experiments. He was partially to blame for it. Sarek had underestimated his people's reaction to his wife and their child. While Amanda was a strong willed woman, who could put such pettiness behind her, Spock was an overly sensitive child and very prideful. The derogatory comments affected him, and he withdrew from others, but he fought whenever his mother's honor was involved. He was highly emotional for a Vulcan though he kept it well hidden on most occasions. Spock had chosen the Vulcan path. He made his decision.

_Sarek, Spock needs to be able to be himself. He is only half Vulcan. He must be allowed to find that balance within himself. What's the point of living with only half of yourself?_

Tiberius was clearly more than a case study to Spock. Vulcans did not need friends, but they did need interactions with one another on occasion. Was it wise to get close to this Tiberius from a pre-warp civilization?

And there was the matter with choosing an appropriate candidate to bond with his son. Amanda had wished for Spock to choose his own mate, but Sarek won the argument, and he was bonded at the age of seven. Amanda only conceded with the condition that if Spock ever had the bond broken for some reason, he would be allowed to choose his own mate. So now, Sarek could only propose those who were unbounded. It was . . . troubling that Spock had a lack of interest in choosing a mate. He had barely glanced at the files given to him.

"Father, are you contemplating something?" Spock had slipped back into the dining room to retrieve his PADD. It would be nightfall soon.

"Yes." Sarek picked up his plate. "Will you be departing?"

"Affirmative. I have a meeting with Tiberius again. We are to discuss the cause of World War III and the effect the nuclear radiation had on the planet in the mid 21st century.

"It is sure to be an enlightening conversation." His father agreed.

He saw his son out to the end of the path leading away from the house and into Shi'Kahr, before returning to the house. Amanda was sure to disagree with what he was going to do. She was keeping an eye on him in the game for the most part. She would know if something was wrong, but she was also swayed by her emotions and sentimentality. He wanted a Vulcan's point of view.

* * *

"Damn Bones. Take it easy. We got time," Jim laughed as his best friend took another large swing from his whiskey bottle he had snuck in.

"Don't tell me how to drink," the doctor scowled. "And can they turn down the music?"

"Hey, you're the one who told me to come to the club." Jim grinned. He had been reluctant to come out, but he was starting to be glad he did. He hadn't been spending nearly enough time with the doctor.

"I must have been out of my mind," he muttered. "Don't you have girls to seduce or something? Or do you prefer your little elf friend over real people now."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You have way too much free time if you're getting involved with my personal life. Speaking of which. . ." A beautiful black woman, with long dark hair, was dancing up against a tall, lean Scottish man with red hair whom, unlike his female partner, moved clumsily and stiffly. "Think Uhura will let me intervene on her dance with Scotty?"

"More like she'll try to cut off your balls. She's been trying to get Scotty to dance with her for months." A man about Jim's age and of Asian descent sat down beside him, leaning forward to steal his drink.

"Really Sulu? Shouldn't you be treating me to a drink?"

A smirk crossed Sulu's face. "You're just mad that you lost, Tiberius."

Jim wrinkled his nose. "You just got lucky. If I had found you first, you would have lost."

Sulu laughed. "You're right. So thank God you got knocked out by that elf. Who was he anyway?"

It was a legitimate question, but it made Jim uncomfortable. He didn't want to answer the question even though he had no reason not to. "So . . . Uhura's into Scotty?"

"You didn't know? She's been pinning for him since last semester."

"Shit, no wonder she didn't give me the time of day."

"Well there is someone who's interested." Jim followed Sulu's gaze, landing on a pretty brunette with some nice curves. It was the type he usually went for, but he wasn't interested. In fact, none of the women he had seen had interested him.

"Nah, not in the mood tonight. Just here to drink with you guys." Jim made a show of lifting his glass and putting on a smirk. "Thought you guys missed me."

"I think you just prefer elves."

Jim's face turned red at that statement. It was not hard to recall what Sulu was referring to. He could still feel the elf's body pressed against him, his warm breath on his cheek. He felt something within him stir at the memory. Of course that video had been posted all over the internet. "Pff, yeah right."

At Sulu's laugh, Jim felt a bit offended, and he wasn't sure why. It had been some time since he had been laid. Maybe it was time to get back in the sack and relieve some stress. In less than a month, they would be announcing the candidate and he had been working his ass off trying to ensure he would be chosen. On top of playing _ShiKahr_ , he had gotten very little sleep the past 2 months between school and the game.

"Hey, I'll see you guys later alright," Jim murmured, making his way over to the pretty brunette.

"Use protection!" was McCoy's helpful advice.

Kirk flipped him the finger then turned his charm on to the woman before him. "Hey, I couldn't help notice you staring and I just had to ask, is there something on my face, because if there is, I need you to tell me where right away."

The woman smiled. "I was wondering how long it would take you to notice me, but you didn't seem interested."

Kirk's smile became a bit tighter. He really wasn't. Not tonight at least, but he did have a reputation, and he had been inactive too long. "I wasn't, until I got a good look at you. Then I knew I just had to talk to you."

The woman smiled, looking amused. Her hair was short, just stopping just below her ears and curling around her face, and her green eyes looked at him with wonder. "You don't remember me do you?"

The comment made him stop flirting for a moment, long enough to take in her gentle features and bright eyes. He could recognize those eyes anywhere. "Edith?"

Her smile brightened. "I'm a bit hurt. I recognized you right away, but you wouldn't have recognized me if I didn't bring attention to it," her New York accent that Jim had been fond of once upon a time had faded, and she had lost the baby fat around her face, but it was definitely her.

"Edith!" He hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground and laughing. She had been his first love when he was a young boy. Very young. He hadn't even had sex yet though he had considered having his first time to be with her before her grandmother, also named Edith but her last name was Keeler instead of Williams, died and she had to move back to New York as a result. "What brings you here to San Francisco?"

"A peace conference."

Jim laughed. "I thought the world was at peace already."

"There may not be wars but there are terrorists now and then. Someone has to listen to why they are acting the way they are."

Jim smiled at her again, this time with affection. "Still trying to save the world one person at a time as always."

"And you're still living up in the clouds. I hear you're going to be heading into space soon. Farther than anyone has ever gone before."

Jim chuckled and decided to lean against the wall next to her. "So you found out I'm in Starfleet huh?"

"I'm not surprised. You were always destined to be a captain. Just like you were always destined to go out into the stars. Perhaps you will find alien life out there."

"Aliens huh?"

"You'll find them, and I'm sure they'll have the pointy ears that you're so fond off."

Jim mimicked Spock's quirked eyebrow trick, though it wasn't as nearly as condescending as Spock's. "And what would you know about pointy eared aliens."

"Nothing at all. Just that you always had a fascination with elves."

Jim groaned. "Seriously, that is the second time someone suggested I had an elf fetish tonight." Still, what she had said was unsettling to say the least. Things she said always seemed to come true if it already wasn't. She had a high psy rating too, but she always claimed that it was a lucky guess. "Maybe I just wanted a chance to get back together with you?"

"You didn't seem interested before you walked over."

Truthfully he still wasn't interested in a one night stand. Lately, he had been wanting more. More of what exactly, he hadn't quite figured out. Maybe with her. "But I didn't know it was you."

"Why, James, are you asking to start where we left off?" She grinned.

"Kind of. You won't be in San Francisco long so . . . one night and see where it goes from there?"

She seemed visibly shocked that he possibly wanted to try something long term. "Sure thing," she finally said. "My hotel isn't far."

As they walked out of the bar, they talked. Talked about their lives, about schooling, and jobs. Jim hadn't laughed so much in the real world in a long time. Edith always had that effect on him. That's why he had fallen for her in the first place.

Once the door closed to her room, he was on her. He pushed her against the wall, kissing her, devouring her lips. The women tended to love it when he was a little rough. She kissed back, moaning, wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him close.

At this point, he should have been feeling at least a bit turned on, but he wasn't. In fact, he didn't feel any arousal at all.

The fact bothered him. He was attracted to Edith. He knew he was, but it wasn't enough.

He led her to the bed, deepening the kiss. She tugged off his button up shirt, popping off the buttons without a care and tossed it to the side. That should have turned him on. It didn't.

Yet he did not pull away. He worked on her shirt, his mouth leaving hot kisses on her neck. "You have a condom somewhere?" he asked.

"Bathroom."

Jim was off her in a moment, heading into the bathroom looking for them at a leisurely pace. Strange thing happened when he did. The moment her hands were off him, he was hit with a wave of arousal. He sighed in relief. At least he knew nothing was wrong, it was starting to scare him a bit. Edith was nice. If he was going to try for a steady relationship, she would be a logical choice. But it wouldn't work out if he wasn't aroused by her.

He grabbed a condom from the box; ignoring the small sense of wrong he kept feeling inside him, brushing it aside. He left the bathroom, greeted with a sight of Edith sprawled out on the bed, looking up at him with lustful eyes. "Aren't you a sight," he grinned.

She smiled, waving him closer. "Come here."He grinned, walking over to her and joining her on the bed.

The moment her hands touched him, his arousal flagged considerably. What was going on?

"You alright? You seem distracted?" She whispered.

"I'm fine," he leaned over kissing her neck, trying to distract himself and her.

She seemed content, her touches light as she dragged them down his back, then his chest. He felt dirty everywhere she touched. It wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to touch him.

Jim paused at that thought. Why not? Why would he think that?

While he was distracted by his own thoughts, Edith's hands trailed down to his leather pants, her fingers dipping under the hem. That seemed to be the last straw as he recoiled back from it, pulling away as if he was burned.

While Edith looked confused, Jim was even more so, his face red and his eyes wide.

"Jim, are you okay?"

"Sorry . . . I don't know what's wrong with me tonight." He sat on the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands. How embarrassing was this? God, he couldn't even look at her. "I think need to go. . ."

He felt the bed dip where she shifted beside him, arms wrapped around his shoulder in a friendly hug. "I understand. You don't want me touching you because you're in love with someone else."

Jim laughed half-heartedly. "Right, me in love. With who?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"There's no one like that! I haven't even been with a girl in two months!" Jim shot up from the bed, pacing. He was frustrated at the situation, and it showed as he rubbed his hands through his hair.

"I mean, all I've been doing lately is hanging out in Shikahr, which you know already 'cause you saw the match which means I'm assuming you play, but there's no girl there either. Spock and I just mess around there. You know, go on quests, watch some movies, hang out in the tavern, but it's usually just us. So what's wrong with me?" He rambled. He was so caught up in his ranting, he didn't notice the look of comprehension dawning on her face.

"Jim, it's alright. I had a feeling we were going to be just friends anyway."

He looked pained. He really wanted this to work out. How many times had he wished he could find someone he could trust like Edith, longed to be loved just to prove that someone could? How many relationships had he shied away from because of his own distrust of those women, and how many times had he told himself that one night stands were better? Jim stopped his pacing. When did he start wanting to be in a relationship anyway? When did he stop looking at other women?

He wasn't sure. Since he started the game that was for certain. Was he getting too involved? Was it taking over his life?

"Look, Edith, I'm sorry. I really have to go," he mumbled, still too embarrassed to look at her.

"Meet me tomorrow for lunch? As friends?"

Jim stopped. He still felt uncomfortable about all this. "Sure thing."

She smiled at him when he glanced at her. "Great." Jim quickly pulled on his shirt and made a straight line for the door. He was so focused on leaving he didn't hear her add, "Say hi to Spock for me."

* * *

Spock sat in his room, looking over his helmet again. The limiters should be ready for his meeting with Jim today. He was anxious for it. For the past four days, he had been feeling sexual arousal coming through the bond, which he promptly shut out as much as he could. He did not need to know when T'Pring was copulating with Stonn, and he did not wish to examine the bond he tried hard to ignore on a daily basis as it was. Unfortunately, feeling the arousal had stimulated his own, drawing on his frustration as he was forced to immediately shut it down. It would be unseemly for a Vulcan to act on such desires even if he was by himself.

So he was eager to meet with Jim. To feel the calm he always did when he was with him. The man had been on vacation the past 5 days, to study for his finals. Spock had no doubt that the human would do fine on his exams even with minimum review. Still, he wished for Jim to do well so he did not protest his choice to take a break from the gaming world.

Checking the limiters one more time and feeling satisfied with its performance, he prepared to enter the game.

Jim was waiting at his home, lounging on his sofa with his player menu up, looking through the available quests. It was a clear sign that the human felt like going out today instead of staying indoors. Judging by the coloring of the quests, they were going to be difficult even for the renowned swordsman. Something must have happened.

"Are you alright Jim?" Spock asked, standing behind the arm rest to read over the blond man's shoulder.

"Hn, fine. Just need to relieve some stress." He grunted, closing the menu.

"Did you do adequately on your exams?"

Sighing, Jim tilted his head back to look up at the brown eyes staring at him worriedly. He couldn't help but smile at that. "I must look like shit if you're worrying over me."

The Vulcan straightened. "I do not feel worry," he said automatically.

Jim's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Of course not, Mr. Spock. You only ask about my well being because it is necessary to do so."

Jim saw the light flush of green on his cheeks, barely noticeable but still there. "I passed them all with flying colors. I'm just stressed about my personal life is all. Nothing for you to be concerned with."

"Flying colors?"

Jim laughed. "I passed all of them. Three of them were even perfect scores."

"That is fortunate. Where would you like to go today?"

Jim opened his mouth when a blue light drew his attention. Someone was entering the game.

He gave a meaningful look to Spock, asking if he knew who it was, but judging from the surprise he was exhibiting by his lifted eyebrows, he did not either.

Standing there was a woman, similar to Spock with her dark hair, pointed ears, and her greenish complexion. Her stance was just as perfect and straight as Spock's had been when he first met the elf, but her expressions were even more concealed, making Spock's emotionless façade seem like a joke.

"T'Pring," the way Spock said her name drew Jim's attention. He hadn't heard Spock sound that closed off and distant since they first met. "I was not expecting you."

"It seemed logical after our latest debate that I too be under the same conditions to better understand your arguments. Though I find the activity to be distasteful, I was curious to see where your logic stemmed from." Her eyes drifted to Jim, but she said nothing to him.

" _That is unnecessary. It would be just as effective if you_ _watched from the analysis labs."_ Spock switched to his native tongue. He was not pleased that T'Pring was here. This world was one place where he could find peace aside from his nightly meditations.

" _Unnecessary, but more efficient. Is there a particular reason you do not wish for my company?"_ She answered as professional as ever.

" _I do not see the logic of spending additional time and energy together that may strengthen our bond when you wish to break it."_ His meaning was quite clear how unpleased he was. His words betrayed his feelings, but she seemed unfazed by his emotionalism even with a Vulcan mask.

" _You have effectively blocked the bond from your end. It will not strengthen if you continue to do so; therefore, your argument is invalid."_

A cough interrupted them and both sets of dark eyes turned to Jim. "Uh, Spock. Mind introducing me to your . . . friend?"

"I am T'Pring. I am not a friend. I am she who is to be Spock's wife."

Jim froze for a second then rounded on Spock, "You're engaged?!" His chest felt constricted as he waited for Spock to deny it. The elf had to deny it. It was not an option.

Spock was silently seething. Even Jim could see that by the way his eyes narrowed just slightly at his fiancé. "In my culture, the marriages are arranged when we are seven years of age." His voice turned colder when he addressed T'Pring. "It is not logical to introduce yourself as she who is to be my wife when you wish to cease the marriage between you and I."

"Until our . . . engagement . . . is officially broken or you win against Stonn, it is what I am. There is no benefit to hiding it. That is unless you have found another to take my place." Her eyes glanced at Jim again.

"There is no other, but I do not wish to challenge for you either, not when you find me too emotional and find my being distasteful." Spock turned to Jim who was staring between the two like they were both insane. "Jim, you wished to do a quest today?"

"Huh?" Jim seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking. "So . . . . you're not engaged."

For some reason, Jim's question seemed to ease Spock's tension. "The engagement with T'Pring will be called off in due time, but my culture requires many ceremonies and requirements before it can become official."

"That . . . sounds incredibly stupid, but your whole culture is kind of weird and complicated." Jim seemed to relax as well, his shoulders slumping and his expression turning back to that cocky grin. He turned to T'Pring with a glare."If you're going to follow us, try to keep up. I'm on a mission, and I'm getting what I want today." Spock watched with curiosity at Jim's defensive and somewhat hostile attitude towards T'Pring. He had never seen Jim find someone offensive without having done something to cause it.

T'Pring was not ruffled by Jim's behavior. She merely nodded her head. "It will not be a problem."

Jim turned to Spock. "Well, get changed and let's get going. I'll get I-Chaya." At the sehlat's name, T'Pring raised an eyebrow at Spock. The elf ignored her, going through his player's menu to select his gear while Jim went to collect his pet from Spock's room.

Spock's clothes shimmered and changed into his hunter's gear, and he changed his hair to be the way Jim usually styled it.

" _You look like a human."_

Spock only glanced at T'Pring before looking at Jim's back. _"In order to understand, at times you must act like the being you wish to comprehend; otherwise, the only results you have are based on assumptions."_

They waited in silence not even acknowledging one another. Jim returned with the sehlat at his side, frowning at Spock. "Hold on, I got some things for you in the last town we went to, but we have to change your hair first."

Jim stepped into Spock's space, reaching up to play with his hair while opening and messing with Spock's menu. He made Spock's hair longer until it reached his mid back. He then proceeded to pull out a silver hair ornament with a large blue gem in the center. It was similar to a barrette except it was about 2 inches wide and six inches long and the silver plate curved with beautiful engravings that swirled and entwined around the gem, and instead of a clasp there was a metal rod that looked like a chopstick that slid into place to hold it still. He gently grabbed and pulled back the top half of his hair, his arms practically wrapped around Spock's neck to do so, into a ponytail to be held by the ornament letting the lower half flow free. Spock still had a few strands framing his face, but all it did was bring attention to the next item he pulled out. This one was a head ornament (though labeled tiara in the inventory, Jim called it a crown) with two silver strands that danced around one another, weaving and coming to a point in the middle of Spock's forehead, forming a small 'V' shape between his fallen strands of hair.

As Jim did all this, he and Spock barely had a few inches between them. Spock stared directly into Jim's eyes as the human changed his appearance not saying a word the entire time. Jim could feel Spock's breath on his face and the warmth radiating from his body. Almost like the time Spock had pinned him down during the royale.

Jim's breath stopped. Spock had gone from looking like a sexy pirate to something completely different. He looked like elf royalty from the old _Lord of the Rings_ remake. He looked regal and elegant with the long hair that accentuated every turn of his head, every move of his body. Regal, yet still dangerous with his bow in his hands, and dark eyes staring into him.

Spock watched as Jim stepped back to admire his work and noted with fascination as Jim's pupils dilated at the sight of him.

"What are the purposes of the items, Tiberius?"

The use of the player name seemed to get through to Jim as he blushed and looked away. "Right, um, the hair ornament is used to increase magic by quite a bit. I know you sacrificed it and all, but I think if you strengthened a few spells, it'd serve you well. The head ornament increases dexterity and speed; though, you can get rid of the hair ornament if you want. You probably think magic is illogical anyway, and you probably hate long hair. I mean that's why you probably kept it short to begin with. You know what just give it back and I'll give it to someone who could use it." Crap, he was rambling.

Spock seemed amused, much to Jim's mortification. "I will keep the gift as you have gone through much trouble to obtain it. I have been curious to the aspects of magic in the game and would like to explore its uses in more detail first hand."

Jim just nodded quickly. Maybe he was developing an elf fetish. "Right let's go."

* * *

Jim was not kind to T'Pring. He purposely set a quick pace that any beginner would have a hard time keeping up with, leaving a significant distance between them and T'Pring that she would never be able to cover at her low level. Not to say that Jim left her in the dust, he made sure to keep her in sight and would protect her from anything that tried to attack her, but he usually kept his distance and Spock was forced to do the same as the monsters in the area were too powerful for Jim to defeat them on his own.

T'Pring seemed quite happy staying at a distance from them and just watching, much to Jim's pleasure. Jim did not like the fact that she was following them, and he did not like how tense Spock had become the moment she had shown up. The elf had gone back to hiding his emotions as much as possible, and it made the human feel like he was being distanced from him. It took a better part of two hours to get Spock to lighten up again and practically forget she was there.

"Jim, may I ask why you do not like T'Pring?"

Jim looked up at Spock with a half shrug before he continued to sift through the loot they had captured. They were in a dungeon on the South Continent of Requisavana, a jungle like area with large trees and humid air, and lots of foliage and canyons to make travel difficult if one did not have high dexterity. "I don't like the fact she doesn't think you're good enough to marry. I know you said people in your home town treat you like crap, but to see it is a different story. I mean you said she had another guy already lined up! How fucked up is that?!"

Spock seemed taken back, his forehead crinkling slightly. "You do not like her because she does not approve of me?"

"You're perfect the way you are Spock. Any person would be lucky to have you. So yeah, I don't like her because she's a bitch who is hurting you by tossing you away because you're a bit unique." Jim transferred an item to Spock's inventory. "Here, put this on. It will help your stealth."

Spock nodded, a small green tinge on his cheeks as he put on the item. It was a dark blue cloak.

"Damn, that looks really good on you," Jim muttered putting on his own new equipment. He traded his long gloves for short leather ones, exposing the tanned skin and lean muscles on his arms, his head piece turned into a black bandana, and his sleeveless shirt was replaced with black tattoos placed on his shoulders, that traveled down his arms to his wrists, his lower back, his right pectoral, and over his navel. Spock knew of the tattoos. They were written in ancient Vulcan. Jim wore the Pre-Surakian warrior's tattoos. Each one a different meaning: strength, ferocity, will, life. The ancient text drew the on looker's attention to the contours of the warrior's body, each curve and dip of the skin, each muscle contraction, the life that the warrior displayed.

Spock couldn't stop himself from admiring the text on Jim's body that gleamed under the layer of sweat from the humid air. He remembered making this specific piece of armor on a whim. The idea to bare one's self to the world with only tattoos to protect you, showing that you hide nothing when you fought with your opponent. To fight with everything, relying only on skill and faith had intrigued Spock when he was younger and learning the history of Vulcan. He had been ashamed to have given into the impulse to create it at the time, so there was only one version of this unique armor in the game. He would never have imagined that Jim would be the one to find it.

Yet, it was appropriate. Jim was a warrior of such skill and passion. He was fierce in battle, graceful with his speed and agility, had a will that matched no one else, and strength to back it all up. He radiated life and warmth. If anyone should have it, it should be Jim. "Your armor suits you as well."

"Really?" Jim's nose wrinkled as he exampled the glyphs himself. To him, they looked like fancy music notes or scribbles.

Spock closed the distance between them, raising a long slender finger to trance the lines. "This one," he traced the marks over his arms, "means strength." His hand moved toward his chest. "Will." To his back. "Grace." Then finally he reached out to touch the one on his stomach, causing a shiver to go up Jim's spine. "Life."

"Did you make this up," the human's voice had gained a rough quality to it.

"It is an ancient language. Mostly forgotten." Spock dropped his hand and took a step away. "Shall we go?"

Jim almost looked disappointed at the distance between them. "Sure thing."

Together they left the dungeon area where T'Pring waited for them at the entrance. Jim's sour mood came back at the sight of her. With the tattoos, however, T'Pring turned to Spock with a disapproving eye.

Spock decided to ignore her and follow Jim. He did not need to explain himself. He had put many things in this game that represented cultures all over the galaxy. Vulcan was not an exception.

Jim intentionally sought out a high level monster just to force T'Pring to stand away from them. Spock did not mind. He knew the routine for such opponents. It was a pincer attack. The monster stood about eight feet tall with a lion type body except a bit lankier, a horn sticking out from its nose like a rhinoceros, spikes sticking out from its vertebrae, and overly large feet. It liked to charge and Jim took it upon himself to be the matador.

Jim approached it from its left side while Spock from the right. The swordsman would draw the ghenlok, the name of the monster, to him, attacking the side of his body. Spock at that point would already be in position releasing an attack to strike the ghenlok from behind. I-Chaya was a distraction, drawing attention to itself by attacking whenever the ghenlok was closing in too much on Jim. Between Jim and I-Chaya, the ghenlok was not sure who to focus its attack on with its low intelligence. The confusion slowed its attack time by half while Spock fired away from behind doing extra damage.

During the entire fight, Spock and Jim did not speak to one another. They worked in sync even with the silence, Spock healing Jim at critical moments, and Jim knowing when to get out of the way when Spock planned a wide spread attack.

Eventually, they brought the creature down, and both Jim and Spock silently agreed to forfeit the goods and let I-Chaya eat his dinner using the ghenlok's carcass.

T'Pring watched impassively. She agreed that the human was quite intelligent in his tactics. The human represented the warrior markings well. He moved like a Vulcan and was quite impressive, but even from where she stood she could feel the human's chaotic mind against her shields. He had strong emotions, swirling and battling one another and his thoughts were just as hectic. Could Spock not feel it? Or was he acting strange, following this human like a young sehlat to its mother, because he was influenced by it. It must be the later for she knew that Spock was a very strong telepath.

What was very disconcerting was Spock and this human's ability to communicate so well without uttering a single word as if they were speaking to one another aloud. As there was no bond between them, it should have been impossible. They were not bondmates. If they were, her premarital bond with Spock would have been broken. Sarek would want to hear of this.

* * *

They made their way back to the palace in ShiKahr. Jim had returned to his favorite sleeveless black shirt, muttering something about not being a tattoo fan and was content to collapse on the couch with his new treasure, a dragon egg. Spock had a strange thought that Jim would bring back many strange animals in the future if allowed to.

Spock had not gained a treasure for his troubles, but he had leveled up to a level below Jim's, a level 70. That was satisfactory enough. He had enjoyed the day's outing despite the unwanted company, and Jim seemed to have worked out his stress though he would still glare at T'Pring from time to time.

"Hey, Spock, have we watched _War of the Worlds_ yet?"

"We have not." Spock was already setting up the screen for thee film. If Jim was asking about a movie, he wanted to watch it right then. "Which version do you prefer? There seems to be 5."

The human laughed. "The first one of course. I'm still laughing at your response to Wizard of Oz. You're always asking about my views about life in space. I can't wait to see your face at what humans thought of aliens back then. And the graphics! They're so bad! But it's still a world renowned book and movie."

Spock found the movie and started playing it before taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch Jim sat in.

T'Pring, uncertain about what exactly this documentary was about, took a seat in the armchair.

Halfway through the movie, T'Pring could no longer stay silent and could not understand how Spock could at all. "This documentary is inaccurate and illogical. No alien race would attack without giving a reason or making some statement. Even if their mission was to destroy all humans, there are more efficient ways to do so, and bodies cannot simply disappear without any trace. Matter cannot simply disappear, and I highly doubt it is possible for the human body to be completely turned into heat."

Jim at this point had his feet propped up on Spock's lap, again making the Vulcan woman confused as to why Spock was allowing so much physical contact between them. The human glared at her and turned to Spock, "you read the book right?" Spock nodded. "Great! Can you explain us illogical humans to her so she can understand, so I can watch my movie?"

Spock raised an amused eyebrow at Jim's moodiness. Jim did not like people talking during movies. While he tolerated occasional questions from Spock, he was not lenient with other people. Spock had watched Jim curse out McCoy in four languages when the doctor kept talking during their _Lord of the Rings_ marathon.

"This is not a documentary. This form of media was created solely for entertainment purposes. The audience has to suspend disbelief and accept what the movie is informing you regardless of the inaccuracies, impossibilities, or illogicality of it. As this movie was created in the mid 20th century, much was exaggerated, and fear of life from other planets was the norm as humans in general are resistant to things that are unknown to them as most life forms are." Spock kept his attention to the movie, making mental comparisons of the movie and of the book, far preferring the book over the strange 1950s adaption.

T'Pring said nothing else, choosing to observe the human and Vulcan interaction instead.

When the movie finally ended, Jim logged off leaving the two of them alone. "You have questions," Spock said, closing off once again.

"Why do you allow that human to touch you?" She asked.

Spock did not look at her. Instead he cleaned the mess Jim had left on the couch, blankets and pillow everywhere. He always insisted he had to be comfortable when watching a movie to really enjoy it. "Tiberius is very tactile even for a human. He does it instinctively, and while he does try to limit his contact with me, he often continues the behavior."

"An undisciplined mind," she concluded.

"Incorrect," Spock interjected. "Different. I have discovered that Tiberius is a very restless individual with an equally restless mind. When standing still he often fidgets and he talks with his hands. I have found a correlation between his movements and his thinking process. When there is very little activity around him, he tends to move frequently. When speaking and interacting, he speaks with his body through gestures and touch. The only times when he is still is when he is focusing on something. Whether it is an academic problem or a strategy on a battlefield amidst chaos makes no difference. It seems to be the only time he is not restless."

T'Pring stared a long time at him until Spock was unsettled by her silence and had to look up to see what she was thinking.

"You have spent much time observing this human. You know his actions as soon as he thinks of them." Spock was quiet, neither admitting nor denying. "Would it not be beneficial to study other humans as well? One human is not an adequate sample. He could be an outlier. Others are needed."

"There is still much more I can learn from Tiberius. There is still much earth history, culture, mannerisms, and colloquial sayings that I have not yet learned."

"Yet they are unimportant. We are studying them to learn if they are ready to learn of other life, not to be one of them. While their history provides a source of evidence to past human reactions to specific events, their mannerisms and speech does not provide useful data to us. Another human can provide additional culture as well."

She was right. Spock knew that. It was not logical to stay with Jim. There was much for him to still learn from the human, but he was still only one human with his own set of ideas and beliefs. He was not enough to represent humans as a whole. "I will stay with Tiberius for a while longer."

T'Pring seemed to have expected the answer as she bowed her head. "Live long and Prosper Spock."

* * *

T'Pring wasted no time. After she woke from the game, she found a terminal and contacted the ambassador.

Sarek's face greeted her, and they exchanged formalities. "You have word of my son already?" he asked.

"Indeed." She uploaded the images and information she had collected to the terminal and sent them to Sarek's PADD.

"What have you learned?" Sarek asked. He had picked up his PADD and was scanning the information.

"I have found the human to be very brash, loud, disorganized, impulsive, aggressive, fairly intelligent for his species, and restless. The human also seemed to display signs of jealousy towards me when I had announced myself as Spock's intended and proceeded to show rude behavior towards me and exhibited possessive behavior."

"And what conclusion have you come to after only a day?" Sarek's lips had down turned just slightly at the corners.

"My conclusion, Ambassador, is that Spock is in love with the human named Tiberius."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that there is a difference between critiquing and being an ass. Just because I'm warning an author about a trend they show in their stories and warning them so that they are aware of it (because trends can make the story become predictable to an extent if more than one or two book is read) is not being rude! It is giving helpful advice! I have a hard time take criticism. I'll admit that, but I am aware I'm no Charles Dickens and my stories are freaking perfect. If there is a potential problem, I'd like to know about it, so I extend the same courtesy. It is not being rude. 
> 
> That's my rant for the day.


	8. Anger and Misery: They Both Suck

Jim stretched, walking down the streets of ShiKahr with I-Chaya by his side. Spock said he had business in the real world, so for the first time in a while, he was in the game alone. Classes had ended earlier that day, and Bones and the others were planning to meet up to celebrate later. Until then, he was trying to kill time.

T'Pring's visit the day before had made Jim think. His behavior yesterday towards Spock was a bit strange. He was just so angry that a woman like her could be betrothed to someone like Spock. He kept thinking how she didn't deserve him, how Spock could do so much better, but Spock had said that his marriage was arranged. He didn't have a choice. So the question was, when Spock had said there were many steps that had to be taken to break that betrothal, did it mean that Spock had to find another to get engaged to first in order to break the first one? Spock kind of made it sound like that when questioned further though he didn't give a straight answer to Jim's questions. Why did it bother him so much?

"Probably because he'd get stuck with another bitch," he muttered. Seriously, what type of backwater place did Spock come from? Who did arranged marriages anymore?

His grumbling drew several weary stares from other players, and thankfully, they all left him alone. Lately, he had been challenged to several duels whenever he was alone thanks to that battle royale mess. Everyone knew who he was because of it and what he looked like.

He pulled up his menu to look at the armor he had retrieved in the dungeon. It was titled Pre-Surakian Armor. While most armor had a small history attached to them in the description, this one was blank. When he asked about it in the forums, no one had ever seen or heard of it before. The stats were ridiculously high, which did not make sense since the material and the design of the armor generally determined the stats. The only material this piece of equipment used was ink. There were no defense components to it whatsoever, yet it was the strongest thing in his inventory.

Of course, if there was a shirt, obviously there must be pants to go with it. So there had to be another piece to this armor.

Jim sighed. Things were great with Spock, but he didn't know how much longer he could continue playing with his schooling coming to an end. Things were going to change for them.

Jim entered the IDIC tavern and paused at the door. Sitting in Spock's usual spot, was an elf. One who looked very similar to Spock except his face was a bit older, his hair was graying, and his face was simultaneously stern and emotionless.

Jim decided to go out on a limb. Spock and T'Pring were the only ones to have that design before so there was a high chance he probably knew Spock if only administrators had access to the character race.

Putting on his best smile, he walked towards the man. His steps slowed slightly when the man caught sight of him and stared at him intently. It was a bit disquieting actually. Jim swore the man saw right through him.

"Hi, I haven't seen you around ShiKahr before," Jim confirmed he wasn't another player when no interaction menu popped up when he neared. "First day playing?"

"I am not playing as you put it. I am waiting for my wife." The man spoke with no inflection in his voice. This man, Jim decided, was ten times more intimidating than Spock, and the man hadn't even done anything yet.

Perhaps talking to this guy wasn't such a great idea. "My name's Tiberius. If you need help with anything, game or otherwise, feel free to ask." Jim was just about to make his retreat when I-Chaya put his front paws on the table and gave a long slobbery lick to the man's face.

Jim froze, his eyes wide and thinking "Oh Shit!" about a hundred times in rapid succession. I-Chaya had never done that before except to Spock when he's in a particularly bad mood when he logged in at times. It always cheered the elf up almost immediately. Jim did not think that this man would be so happy. "I-Chaya! Get down!" Where was a collar and leash when you needed one? "Sorry about that. He doesn't normally do that."

At the use of the sehlat's name, the man's brow furrowed. The first real reaction he had shown since Jim entered the tavern. "His name is I-Chaya?" The name was said a little differently with an accent Jim did not recognize, similar to how Spock pronounced his own name

Jim blinked. "Uh, yeah. A friend of mine named him a day after I befriended this idiot in The Forge. Just between you and me, I think I-Chaya prefers him over me. Then again, Spock spoils him rotten, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised," he laughed.

"How so?" the man asked.

Well if this was what it took to get the man talking . . . "Well Spock always has a treat ready for him whenever he logs in, and when he's reading, he lets I-Chaya lay his head on his lap even though he drools. He also scratches him behind the ear absentmindedly a lot, but don't tell Spock he does that. He'd be mortified if he realized it. He's weird that way."

"You call your friend weird?"

Was it Jim's imagination or was this guy emitting waves of anger. "Well, yeah he's a bit weird, but so am I. I mean, I call him weird but in a cool way. I like his differences." Jim still felt on edge at the man's stare so he continued. "I mean, Spock's the smartest guy I know. He's also brave, kind, and pretty witty too. It pisses me off that just because he's a bit different he gets treated like crap in his own country."

"Spock told you about his childhood?"

Jim nodded. He had no idea when he had sat down. "And his fiancé is even worse. Spock's way too good for her. I can't believe his parents hooked him up with her. Who would make their kid marry someone who puts him down and could care less about him? His dad must be a real asshole to arrange a marriage with her. She showed up yesterday and the poor guy was completely miserable." It was like once he started talking he couldn't stop. He had this bubbling under his chest since yesterday and had been dying to tell someone. Bones didn't want to hear it and the rest of his group didn't really know Spock.

He shouldn't be telling Spock's business. He knew that. Especially to a complete stranger. It had nothing to do with him, and it wasn't his business to tell, but it wasn't like this guy was going to tell Spock's business right? It wasn't like he knew. . . Spock. . . wait . . . this guy had been only asking questions about Spock . . . fuck.

"You know I never did ask for your name," Jim tried to smile, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

The man was silent, staring at Jim like he was an interesting specimen.

"Sarek!" Both men turned to watch the beautiful Lady Grayson approach them. The woman's eyes brightened at the sight of the blond swordsman. "Tiberius. Wonderful to see you again. I didn't know you would be joining us."

Jim paled as she walked over with her middle and pointer fingers extended to the man sitting across from him who mimicked her actions and touched his fingers to hers. "My wife," he greeted. "You are late."

"I apologize. I was speaking to Spock and our correspondence went longer than I thought." She smiled at him warmly and, perhaps this was Jim's imagination, Sarek relaxed at her touch just a tad. "But I am happy you met Spock's new friend. I didn't think you'd get the chance."

Jim was wishing he'd just shrivel up and die. What were the chances the person he finally broke down to was Spock's father? Fairly good actually since he sought the guy out predicting he probably knew Spock. Damn he was an idiot. "It's nice to see you again Lady Grayson. I hope the real world is treating you well."

"I'm doing well. Thank you, Tiberius. Spock sends his regards. He's behind in some of his work."

"I know. He sent me a message this morning telling me. I understand. I just got finished with my own finals, so I can definitely relate." In the back of his mind he was vaguely wondering how Lady Grayson and Sarek ended up together. They were so different. "By the way, I was wondering if you could help me find a specific item."

"Which item would that be?" she asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

"I found this armor yesterday called Pre-Surakian Warrior Shirt. I was wondering if you knew where the other parts were. No one's heard of it, and it'd be a shame if I didn't get the whole set now that I got one."

"Oh, I remember that armor. Spock made that one on a whim. I don't know if he made more."

"I see . . ."

"Cheer up, hun. I'm sure if you ask him, Spock will make the rest of the ensemble."

"I guess." Jim's menu flashed with a new message. Opening it, Jim's disappointed look turned into one of pure glee. "My egg's hatching!" Jim was out of his seat and out the door with barely a goodbye thrown over his shoulder in his hurry.

Amanda chuckled at his behavior. "He's adorable."

"It is not amusing, my wife. The human could have at least said a proper goodbye to the people he was conversing with."

Amanda sent Sarek an amused look. "He's easily excitable, but that is part of what attracts Spock to him."

"He defends Spock, but he does not know our ways. If he knew, he would not say the things he does." Sarek watched his wife create a drink from her menu that smelled suspiciously like Vulcan tea.

"Perhaps not," she agreed. "But he does care strongly for our son. As a mother, I cannot fault Spock for being infatuated with him. Spock is happy with him even if this is all just a dream."

"Not completely a dream," Sarek whispered, allowing his mind to brush against his wife's. It had been so long since he had been able to do so, and their bond pulsed and brightened when he did so.

His wife sighed happily at the feel of his mind. "I have missed feeling you. It is hard to keep such distance for so long."

"Indeed," he agreed. Looking at her he asked, "You knew of Spock's infatuation?"

She nodded. "First day when he called me to tell me about him I knew. It's why I started keeping track of Tiberius."

"And what do you think of him?"

"I like him. He's smart, outgoing, and I think he helps Spock find a balance between his two halves."

"Do you believe they should be together then?" Sarek asked.

Her eyes saddened. "No. If this continues, I think Spock's heart will break. Tiberius's chosen career could hurt Spock or keep them apart. Either way, Spock will be the one suffering in the end. That's also assuming that Vulcan decides to make first contact with them. This relationship can go nowhere past this game."

Sarek nodded. "I agree."

Neither of them spoke, just enjoying each other's company while they could until Sarek asked, "What is the definition of asshole?"

His wife just laughed.

* * *

Jim awoke grinning. His dragon egg had hatched faster than he had expected. It was a shame Spock hadn't been there. He hadn't been able to come up with a good name for it yet.

Placing the helmet on the desk, he got up and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Edith would be waiting for him at a small café for lunch. He had canceled twice on her, too embarrassed to speak to her since that night, but today was her last day in the city, and he wanted to say a proper goodbye.

Just as he was about to go out the door, his terminal beeped, informing him he had an incoming call. He groaned. Whoever it was, it probably wasn't good news. No one actually called him. He was right too. The person's face who greeted was his mother. While surprised by her call, it didn't stop the anger boiling up inside.

"Mom," he greeted coldly. "I wasn't expecting you to call so soon."

Wionna looked at him sadly. "You're still not mad at me are you Jim? It's been two weeks already."

"Yeah well I'd like to have liked to have known you were getting married and been invited to the wedding, but you didn't. Hell, you invited Sam before me. Sam! And I never even met this guy you decided to get hitched too."

"Jim," she said softly. "You know I love you right?"

He snorted. "Yeah, I know. You just love space more."

"As do you," she sighed. "Just like your fa─"

"Don't." He growled. "Don't compare me to him again. I'm not George. And don't try to change the subject either. You got married and didn't tell me. God knows you have a shitty record when it comes to judging people."

The woman's eyes hardened. "That's not fair, and you know it. I have already apologized about Frank."

"I can bring him up as many times as I want. He's your goddamned brother, how did you not know he was an abusive asshole! How can I trust you to pick a good guy when you didn't even know that about your brother?"

"This is why Sam didn't want me to tell you. You've never approved of anyone I dated."

"For good reason!"

"You will lower that tone when speaking to me young man. I have let you over the years because I felt guilty about Frank, but enough is enough. Sam has forgiven Frank."

Jim, who was pacing in front of his terminal, stopped and glared. "Of course he can forgive him. Sam left if you recall, leaving me alone with him for four years before he sent me to Tarsus."

The woman looked tired and seemed to age in front of his eyes. "Jim, are you going to hold everything against us forever? We fucked up. Sam and I understand that, but Sam is married with a baby on the way, and I've settled down with my retirement . . . We're trying hard to make bridges and make amends."

"I don't think you get it mom. I mean I had shitty friends growing up, but I don't think anyone's screwed me over more than my own family. If you wanted to "make bridges", then you should have invited me to the wedding instead of listening to Sam, you should stop comparing me to George, and you should actually invite me to family events. If I recall I wasn't invited to Sam's wedding either."

"Would you have gone?" She countered. "Because I know you, you would have tried to convince me not to marry him before coming up with an excuse to miss the wedding. Just like you did when you came up with the excuse not to see Sam when he came home a few years ago, or when you missed my retirement party, or when you left to go to Starfleet Academy without telling anyone. You can't blame us when we stopped trying."

"Yeah, I can actually." It was childish. His mother was trying to fix things, and he wasn't letting her. How could he when he practically raised himself, got where he was without anyone, and kept himself together during the Tarsus incident?

Wionna shook her head, looking defeated. "Will you be coming home for Christmas? Sam and his wife will be here, and you can meet Derek."

Jim glowered. "If you make me an honest to god home cooked meal, then I'll consider it."

She actually looked surprised. "We'll see you then. Love you, James."

"Don't call me James, and I'll see you then," he cut off the terminal.

He paced his room. Only his family could make himself feel so agitated and antsy. Why couldn't they see where he was coming from? It wasn't so easy to forgive. They didn't have to deal with everything he had to. They couldn't even begin to understand. He knew his mother had did the best she could after his father died, it was the only reason he did not hate her and looked out for her well being, but it did not mean he would forgive.

His PADD buzzed. He debated whether he should look at the message or not. He wasn't in the mood to deal with people. After a small debate, he looked at the device. He wasn't expecting a message from Spock.

_Jim, are you well?_

He blinked. That was well timed, and Spock had never opened a chat with him before, only sent an e-mail as an administrator a few times.

**I'm fine. Why do you ask?**

The answer was almost immediate. _I apologize. I had a strong urge to check on your wellbeing. I do not know why I was inclined to do so._

Jim smiled. **Are you psychic or something?**

The answer took a little longer this time, but it was fast enough to know that Spock was actively paying attention and waiting for Jim's replies _. I do have a high psy rating, but I have never had premonitions. Since you are well, it further proves that I have no ability of such nature._

The human sat on his bed. **Actually, I'm not fine** _ **.**_ He sent the message. As an afterthought, he sent another message. **Remember a while back when I snapped at you on the beach? When I tried to break off our friendship?**

_I recall._

**That day, I got a message from my mother. She told me she remarried.**

Jim waited. This response took a little longer. He could practically picture Spock's face of confusion with his slanted eyebrows drawn together. _I do not understand. Is that not a joyous occasion?_

**Perhaps if I had been invited to attend the ceremony, and if they hadn't planned to never tell me. I was contacted by my step-father. They told him I didn't want to meet him and didn't want to come to the wedding. He realized it was bullshit. My mother contacted me soon after and told me that it was Sam's idea. Basically passing the blame around.**

Rereading his message he smiled sadly **. It reminded me that the people closest to me have always betrayed me one way or another.**

That probably sounded whiny. Was there away to get that back? He groaned. Well wasn't he a blabber mouth today.

_I will never betray you Jim, and I will only tell you the truth. I assume your mother contacted you again, causing your distress?_

Should he be warmed by something that could easily be a lie? But some part of him wanted to believe him.

**Yeah, but you made it better. Thanks, Spock.**

_If you prefer, we can talk later tonight._

**I thought you had work.**

_I will set time aside. Is midnight amendable to you?_

**Perfect.**

His watch beeped, and he cursed. He was late. He grabbed his jacket, and ran out the door.

* * *

Spock put his PADD away. It was strange. Why had he thought Jim was distressed? Before he could even think it through, he had sent the message. He was glad he did. The feeling had been correct, but the cause of it needed to be examined during his meditations. It had been a long day, filled with debates, paperwork, and hateful coworkers. Not hateful. Vulcans did not hate.

Spock closed his eyes forcing back a headache. He was in desperate need of meditation. For some reason, the continuous blocking of the bond was beginning to cause constant headaches. While pain was a product of the mind and the mind can be controlled, the constant throb refused to be contained. Sleep and meditation should remedy the problem. At the very least, he wished to get a few hours of sleep before he was scheduled to meet Jim. Perhaps he would sleep in the game instead of logging out after. It was not as effective, but it was close enough.

He opened the door to his small home, placing his bag on the dinette table by the kitchen. Perhaps he would synthesis some Plomeek soup. It was not as good as homemade, but the energy required to make it from scratch eluded him at the moment.

Spock was so out of it, too focused on food and controlling his headache, that he had not noticed his father standing at the doorway to his study. "Spock."

He should have been surprised to see his father in his home unannounced, but that too seemed like it required too much energy. "Father, is there something I can do for you?"

"Are you ill? You did not see me upon entering." Sarek moved farther into the small kitchen.

"I require rest and meditation, but it can be postponed. Did you require something of me?"

"I have set up a meeting with a candidate. Her name is T'Lyra. She works at the academy as well as a specialist of Vulcan history, specifically Pre-Surakian times. As a child you were quite fond of the subject."

A date, Spock realized. That's what Jim would have called it. It was unneeded on Vulcan for the most part so they never really had a name for it.

"I would prefer to rest tonight. The offer is appreciated."

He pushed the code into the synthesizer for his soup. This conversation was making his headache worse.

"I would ask you to take a break from entering _ShiKahr_ as well. You are becoming physically drained from trying to balance your workload and your observations. I have been told you have been spending approximately 6.364 hours daily in the simulation. The psychic noise wears down mental shields with prolong exposure."

"I am well aware Father. Your warnings are not necessary," Spock took the bowl into his hands.

"Yet, you were not aware I stood before you until I made my presence known. You are not conscious of it Spock, but you are becoming too attached to the simulation. To this human named Tiberius."

"I have everything under control. If I need your advice, I will seek you out. I require rest as I am sure you have a meeting with the Betazoid ambassador in the morning. Perhaps it would be beneficial if you return home, Father."

"Spock, you cannot avoid speaking of this."

"I will meet with T'Lyra tomorrow. For now, I would like to rest. May you be safe on your journey home."

Sarek stared at Spock with an unreadable expression. Finally Sarek gave in and left. "Live long and prosper my son."

"Peace and long life, Father." It was a relief to be alone in his apartment again. Why did his father and T'Pring suddenly feel the need to trespass? He was perfectly capable of knowing when he needed to stop. He was approaching that fine line, but he wasn't there yet.

Deciding to forgo meditations, which in itself should have been a sign he was not functioning within a normal mental capacity, he set his alarm to wake him two hours before his meeting with Jim. The moment his body touched the sheets of his bed, he was out, already dreaming of shining, blue eyes.

* * *

Lunch with Edith had gone surprisingly well. She had the decency to pretend that night didn't happen, and stuck to topics about their careers and plans for the future. They sat at the café for two hours simply talking and enjoying themselves. She even asked him about Spock.

It was a lengthy conversation; though, after the incident this morning with Sarek, he was careful to watch what he said. Instead, he recounted the quests they went on, movies they watched, and even Spock's and McCoy's strange relationship that was slowly budding into a friendship. Very slowly, but it was getting there. It was nice finally talking to someone about Spock at length. Bones had threatened him with a hypo (the contents unknown, but most likely contained some vaccine with embarrassing and miserable side effects) if he didn't shut up about him. Occasionally, she would look at him with a strange expression, but he was too excited to care.

"Did you think of sending him a Christmas gift? Let him know how much he means to you?"

Jim was taken back by the suggestion. It was a good idea, and he was kind of upset that he didn't think of it. Then reality came crashing down. "I don't even know if he's on planet. He could be on the moon or even the Mars colony for all I know. I wouldn't know where to send it. I've been looking for information to even give me a hint of what culture he might come from, but that seems to be a dead end too."

Edith, the bitch, looked quite amused by his frustration. Delicately, she placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Why, that does not sound like the James Kirk that I know so well. Maybe you should look at a different angle? I'm sure you'll figure out some way to find to get what you want. After all, there is no such thing as no-win scenarios."

At her suggestion, the solution hit him almost instantly. A lazy smile made itself known. "Edith, I could kiss you right now."

"You could, but I'd have to decline." She stood from her seat, stretching a bit. "Well I'm glad we had a chance to catch up. I'll message you before my flight leaves." She stopped and turned her green eyes to him, full of concern. "Do try to forgive Wionna, Jim. I know it is difficult, but you should try. I know you love and care for her even when you don't say it aloud."

Jim sobered up at the advice. "I'll . . . try. . . No guarantees. Until then, message me sooner. I want to see you off before you leave this time."

"You really have become a gentleman since I've been away," she laughed, clearing the serious expression she had previously been displaying.

He smiled back sincerely. "Only for you."

He was completely serious about that too. He walked her to her car as the sky had darkened while they were chatting. Instead of going directly home, he wondered around the strip, looking at the different shops. Spock probably didn't celebrate Christmas. Jim didn't really celebrate it either past eating some good food, but this idea was nagging him. He really wanted to send something to Spock.

But what do you send to a being that would undoubtedly see no logic behind gift giving? A being who tried to be completely logical? A being that denied that he had an emotional side?

Spock was a complex and difficult puzzle. One that Jim found hard not to try to solve. Spock was constantly fighting within himself. He could see how Spock tried to live up to the standards his people placed on him though it hurt him inside, and he could see how the elf was curious and wanted to know more about himself, wanting to quietly embrace the new emotions he had previously never acknowledged to just himself. Spock was so unique and different from any person Jim had ever met, and the human could not help but want to help Spock balance his two worlds even if it was just in the game. He knew from experience; everyone needed a haven to be themselves.

Jim had one gift in mind already. Something Spock would enjoy and would be able to use it in front of his society without scorn, yet it wasn't enough. He wanted to send something personal to Spock to let him know he was paying attention, that he did care about what he had to say and embraced everything he was.

A glint caught the man's eye as he passed a shop. Stopping and backtracking, he looked into the window, a small smile spreading on his lips. Alright, he found gift number two. Now to get an address, and he had an idea of where to start.

* * *

Spock awoke to an alarm going off on his computer. Sleep banished from his mind, he got out of bed and went to the computer trying to find what had set it off. His system apparently was being hacked, and from the looks of it, his firewall had barely detected it.

The intruder hadn't completely made it in yet, but the hacker was quickly compensating and getting through. Spock sent his own program, tracing the hacker back to its origin. Spock's brows furrowed when he found that the source was from Tiberius's computer. Why would Jim do this? And was he not smart enough not to use his own system? Or was he confident enough to know that he would not be caught?

Curiosity got the better of him. He let Jim hack into the database to see what he was looking for.

As it turned out, Jim was looking for personal information on him. As Spock was not officially registered, no information came up. No address, phone number, email, or anything that would give him away. Spock had planned for something like this. As usual, it did not deter Jim. Instead, he looked up Grayson2230 and her files.

Spock tensed as the information got copied and watched Jim leave without leaving a trace of his presence. Under different circumstances, Spock might have been impressed at Jim's hacking abilities. After all, the game ShiKahr was operating with technology more advanced than what humans possessed. For Jim to hack into it as well as he did was amazing. However, the feeling of betrayal ate up inside of him. Why would Jim betray him? Why would he steal? There . . . had to be a reason right? Or was T'Pring right? Was Jim just acting in front of him this entire time, trying to get close?

The thought nearly choked him. He didn't know Jim outside the game. Never met him face to face. For all he knew, Jim could be planning to bring harm to his mother. Why else would he take her address? If Jim wanted to meet with him or his mother, wouldn't he ask first? The only reason he wouldn't ask was if he was planning something he didn't want Spock to know about. All the reasons why Jim might not want Spock to know that the Vulcan could come up with were malicious, and Spock's worry and protectiveness kicked in.

He put a call in to his mother immediately.

* * *

Jim bit his lip as he stood outside an apartment complex for officers of Starfleet. Amanda Grayson. Who would have thought? Well, now that he thought about it, it made more sense. Amanda Grayson, Grayson2230, same name, and if she knew about Jim being friends with her son before the hearing, it wasn't surprising she interfered. He was more ashamed of himself for not putting the dots together sooner. Today just wasn't his day was it?

Still, she was Spock's mother. He was a bit nervous. Besides Edith's mother, he never really met anyone's parent before. He tugged on his cadet uniform's collar. It really was the nicest thing he had in his closet besides his leathers and jeans which wouldn't make good impression. Too bad it was uncomfortable as hell. He really should consider going clothes shopping soon.

Still the uniform wasn't a complete waste. She was an officer. She might appreciate the uniform. She was a highly respected, educated woman who deserved respect . . . and Spock's mom. He looked at the large box he carried. He actually took the time to gift wrap the thing. Granted, it was gift wrapped poorly given that he spent a while trying to get it wrapped properly before giving up.

He hadn't expected the second gift to be done so quickly. The artisan only took seven hours to craft it. Fortunately, the artisan knew what Jim was tring to describe because he kind of sucked when it came to artsy things.

When Jim asked why it would only take seven hours when normally such a thing would take a few days, the woman had said that she would put all her other projects on hold and focus solely on his. She even said she'd use a machine to craft her design, so it'd be smoother and more precise than by hand which she preferred but the outcome was rougher and took longer.

Jim watched as she designed the object on her computer, making corrections and suggestions here and there. Since the woman needed little help, Jim had a strong feeling she was a player and knew who he was and had seen the thing he had wanted her to design. The end result was breath taking.

So while she went to the back, closing shop early to focus on the project, Jim went home to find Amanda's address. That took about two hours. He had been quite impressed with the security on the system. He had no idea that the programming was going to be so complicated and secure. He supposed it made sense since this involved people's minds, and he wasn't exactly a computer scientist. He managed to get what he needed and left, wiping his trace.

Afterwards, he stopped by Uhura's for a few drinks with his friends to celebrate the ending of the semester. A couple hours later, he received the call at 10:58, picked it up by 11:13, tried to gift wrap it for 30 minutes, and was now standing here at 11:43. He was due to meet Spock soon, so he couldn't delay. Luckily, his housing was only a 2 minute walk away.

He stared at the door wondering if he should just walk away. Chastising himself for being a coward over nothing, he buzzed for her apartment.

He waited anxiously, shifting from foot to foot. Was it still too late to run?

"Tiberius." Jim blinked at the somewhat cold voice coming through the intercom. There was no picture, so she must have had it only on audio.

"Uh, yeah." His voice broke. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. Why did he always seem so awkward when it came to talking to her? "Yeah. Um, Grayson2230?" Now this was sounding like a really bad blind date gone wrong. He groaned inwardly.

"Yes. May I ask why you are here?" The voice was still cold which only increased Jim's anxiety. Why did it seem like she was mad at him?

"I wanted to give you something, well something for Spock actually." He tried to use the correct pronunciation of her son's name to win back some points he somehow lost, but the name only sounded awkward coming from him instead of cool and exotic when Spock had said it. Pushing down his growing embarrassment, he went forward. "It's almost Christmas and all, but I don't know where Spock lives, so I was wondering if maybe you could get it to him?"

There was silence over the intercom. After a few moments, the door buzzed open, and he went inside. Amanda was waiting for him outside her apartment, door firmly shut. She was as beautiful in real life as she was in the game. Her face slightly more aged with a few gray strands in her brown locks added to her beauty rather than detracted. If Jim didn't know she had a 25 year old son, he might have thought she was in her late 20s, early 30s, rather than 53. Her normally warm eyes were hard and cold, making him falter in his steps.

Seeing the box in his hands, her eyes warmed, and her posture relaxed. "You really wanted to give my son a present?" she asked.

"Yeah, I mean yes ma'am," he blushed. He was tripping all over himself. He needed to get a grip.

She finally took a good look at him before nodding her head with a warm smile. "You do realize what he'll say right? 'Gift giving is illogical,'" she quoted in a monotone voice.

"Probably," he smiled back. "But it will be his first present right? Or at least his first from a friend?"

"Indeed it will be. I'm sure Spock will greatly appreciate whatever you have gotten for him."

Jim carefully gave her the box. He really hoped Spock liked it, where ever he is. "Careful, it's really fragile."

"Of course dear. I'll make sure it gets to him safely." She reassured him.

"Great . . . I also wanted to thank you for helping me at my hearing. I never got a chance to before."

"There is no need for thanks. I was happy to help. Even I could see you'd make a good captain someday." Her eyes reminded Jim a lot of Spock. He could see what traits Spock had gotten from her. Could see where the warmth, the kindness, the underlying emotion had all come from. Especially the eyes, though a different shade of brown than Spock's, they carried the same intensity.

Jim took a step back, still feeling awkward and not his usually smooth self. "I got to go. I'm supposed to do something in a few minutes."

"Goodnight, James."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Grayson."

Jim hurried home, bypassing McCoy who told him no running in the apartment, and rushed into his room. He had just a minute to spare. His clothes were tossed onto the ground without a care. He put on his helmet and reveled in the familiar feeling of falling into the game.

Jim was immediately pulled into Spock's room which was weird since he had previously logged out in the living room. The last time this happened, it was because Spock wanted to speak to him.

Spock was waiting for him, sitting on the bed with cold emotionless eyes. Jim had only seen that look once, and it had been when Spock was particularly pissed off at another player for not only hacking into the game, but tried to change with the highest players' stats, Jim's and Amanda's included. Hacking . . . shit. "Spock I can explain."

"I do not wish to hear your explanation." His voice was so emotionless; it left the swordsman feeling cold. "You speak of how every person betrays you, yet you betrayed my trust when I have done nothing. Though I appreciate that you did not act the part of a fool, you also knew you were guilty the moment you logged in."

"Spock I had a good reason, I swear," the desperation Jim heard in his own voice scared the shit out of him, and it caused him to hesitate when Spock paused to allow an explanation, but his mind was elsewhere. Why was he so fucking scared? Why did he not wish for Spock to be so cold and distant from him?

It must have taken too long to answer. Spock stood, turning his back on Jim. "There is no reason to violate my mother's privacy. I already told her she should relocate in case you wish to do her harm."

The accusation in Spock's voice almost made it sound like that was what Jim exactly planned to do.

"Are you shitting me?! You think I want to cause harm to your mom? Is that how low you think of me?" Anger was something Jim always fell back on. This felt like a betrayal in itself. How could Spock even assume that about him? Admittedly, from an outsider's point of view, it seemed logical. Jim specifically sought out Amanda's information, and most reasons for that would be negative ones which would make sense, but Spock should have trusted him more than that. "Let me explain dammit!"

"From now on, your account is suspended from _ShiKahr,_ " Spock continued as if he hadn't spoken. He closed his eyes as if he was fighting back pain.

"What?" the response was so weak that it was barely a breath from his lips. His stomach sank, his chest constricted, and he felt as if he had been dunked in ice cold water and going into shock. He couldn't move or do anything. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. He couldn't leave _ShiKahr_. Spock was supposed to remain oblivious so he could get his gifts and be surprised. They were supposed to continue going on adventures together and watch movies on the couch and watch I-Chaya try to eat their food and spar against each other. The shock turned to panic. He couldn't let that happen. He opened his mouth to just yell out why he did it, but he didn't get the chance too. He was booted out of the system and slammed back into his own body.

The experience of being yanked out so violently made him nauseous, but he didn't even care. He tried to log back in desperately, but the system kept rejecting him. He tried making a new account, but the helmet was recognized along with his brain's biochemistry, and still rejected him. He tried sending Spock messages, but they were ignored. He was almost on the verge of a panic attack. He had to make Spock understand.

Throwing his clothes back on, he sprinted to Amanda's apartment. His only response was a message saying that she had left to go home for the holidays, and would not return until after New Years. He tried her communicator number and of course it was turned off.

Emptiness, that's what he felt walking back to his apartment. The housing complex was nearly empty; most of the residents had left to see their families. McCoy would be leaving himself to go to Georgia to see his baby girl and was most likely sound asleep, so he could get up early for his shuttle. Jim entered his room once again.

Upon seeing the helmet, the emptiness and earlier panic, turned to anger. He picked up the helmet and threw it across the room, causing the visor to crack from the impact. His laptop went next, then his PADD, then the terminal, ripped away from the wires that powered it, and threw that as well. Once the technology was destroyed, he went for anything he could put his hands on. His antique book collection, the engineering parts he had tinkered with, his uniforms and hangers, backpack, everything.

He hadn't noticed that McCoy had opened the door and stood at the frame watching the last of his tantrum which ended the moment there was nothing else to destroy. "Are you okay, Kid?" the young man's head whipped to the door, looking almost startled to see his best friend watching him. Then his mind wondered why Bones wasn't yelling at him, cursing at him for waking him up. That was when he realized there was a steady stream of tears rolling down his face. His hand shakily touched them. He hadn't even noticed.

Jim shook his head no weakly. His legs gave out, forcing him to sit on the floor amongst the wreckage. After waiting to see if it was okay, McCoy joined him, sitting beside him, taking in the destroyed helmet and laptop. McCoy didn't ask, having a good idea what happened. "It's going to be okay, Jim."

Jim continued to sit, staring at the floor, quietly crying, and McCoy continued to sit there offering silent comfort with his presence.

* * *

Spock took off his helmet. His headache was ten times worse than before. When Jim had first entered his room, the pain had disappeared until he slammed his shields down on all his emotions so he couldn't feel Jim's emotions or his own. He couldn't even lift his shields without that pain throbbing and threatening to consume him.

He had attempted once to lift his shields, and the pain had almost incapacitated him. It was unacceptable. His mind should not be in so much chaos that he could not function properly. He tried to meditate, to stabilize his shields, his emotions, and his mind, but it as a wasted effort. He was unable to even breach the first layer let alone reach the third or even second layers which were the layers he needed to achieve to even attempt to center anything, so he had to deal with the pain, resisting the urge to clutch his head and whimper. That would not be proper Vulcan behavior.

Without meditation to ease the headache away, he was unable to concentrate on anything other than what he had just done. He had banished Tiberius from _ShiKahr._ He would no longer see or study him, and just the thought made his headache more pronounced as if telling him how stupid he was to do so. Spock had given Jim a chance to explain, but the human just stared at him, saying nothing for a significant amount of time, almost a minute though to Spock it had felt much longer. If he had to think so long, it was logical to assume he was trying to come up with a lie, and Spock did not want to be lied too.

It took several hours for the headache to reach tolerable levels, and he lifted some of his shields. He was surprised to find hurt, anger, betrayal, and sadness awaiting him. It hit him so hard, he fell to his knees. Did Jim's betrayal really hurt him this much? Was this why Vulcans had chosen to give up emotions for logic? He had to force back a sob wanting to escape him. Vulcans did not cry. He would master this and overcome like he always did.

He placed the shields back into place even though he was mentally exhausted from maintaining such strong shields in his mind for so long. He was in control. He _had_ to be in control. He must.

He did not realize; however, that the emotions he felt were his as well as another's.

* * *

 


	9. Love? Nah, Couldn't Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Chapters on fanfiction

Jim looked at the house he would be staying in for two weeks. Assuming he could stomach being here for that long of course. This house, this house brought memories. Many he tried to forget. He had to admit, the house was in better condition than when he left.

His childhood home was a simple two story farmhouse with a 20th century feel to it with wood paneling on the outside and a fresh coat of white paint. The hinged door had been replaced with an electric one; the fence surrounding the large property had been repaired. It looked like this Derek guy worked with his hands. At least he made himself useful.

McCoy had offered to delay his departure the previous night to offer his support, but Jim told him he was fine. He knew the doctor had been waiting two years to be able to see his daughter. It was sad it took him that long to convince his ex wife to allow it. He deserved better than that.

So, he let McCoy go even though he still felt like shit. When he wasn't angry, he was sad, and in his book he'd rather be angry. He tried not to think about Spock and kept himself busy with thoughts of how these two weeks were going to go. Now that he was here, he wondered if he should be.

Adjusting the strap for the bag slung over his shoulder, he put his hand on the bioscanner. The door clicked open. He breathed in slowly. "I'm home."

The first person who came to great him was a man he had never seen before. He was tall, decently built, dark hair, bright green eyes, and a friendly smile. "You must be Jim," the man greeted, extending his hand. "I'm Derek. I talked to you a few days ago."

"I remember," he didn't shake his hand though, partly because he wasn't ready to play nice, the other part being he had gotten used to deterring people from trying to shake hands with Spock.

The man's smile fell a bit. Feeling a bit awkward, he dropped his hand. "Your mother is in the kitchen. Sam hasn't arrived yet, but he'll be here for dinner. I can take your bag to your room if you like."

"I can take my own bag. Tell mom, I'm going to take a nap. I had a long night and a long ride. I'll say hi then." For the record, he managed not to curse at the man though he felt like it. Who said he couldn't play nice? "Maybe a nap will put me in a better mood."

Derek looked lost, unsure what to say, so Jim took his chance to move past him, and up the stairs to his bedroom.

His bedroom looked the same as it had when he had left it. A few movie and band posters on the wall, half finished engineering projects on his desk, food rations stored under the mattress. Just the way he left it. At least his bed was made.

Kicking off his shoes, he curled up on his mattress and attempted to get some sleep.

* * *

Spock sat on his meditation mat, lost in his thoughts. He hadn't been able to sleep or meditate since his fight with Jim. Given that he was already sleep deprived before the fight, even his Vulcan physiology was having trouble keeping up.

He had not gone to the academy, missing the weekly analysis team meeting, nor did he go to the labs. The humiliation of not going into work would be less than going to work in his current state. He hadn't gone into _ShiKahr_ either. He was unable to even look at the equipment. On the brighter side, his headache was a mere hum now. Unfortunately, it was the only bright side.

His doorbell rang, pulling him out of the staring contest with his wall. He had lost track of time. That was worrying.

He stood and went to the door, quickly trying to brush down his hair with his fingers and adjust his robes to look somewhat presentable. He had forgotten his mother was visiting him once she arrived on planet.

Upon opening the door, his mother took one look at him and frowned. "Spock? What happened?" Without waiting for an answer, she entered the small dwelling.

"I am fine, Mother."

"Fine has variable definitions, and you know it. You hate that word. So tell me what's wrong." His mother put her hands on her hips, staring him down, daring him to contradict her.

The whole scenario reminded him of his childhood. The days were he would come home with a split lip or bleeding knuckles. No matter how hard he tried to hide, she always knew.

Spock tore his eyes away from her. "I hope you had no trouble on the way here."

"None whatsoever. Tiberius stopped by just before I left."

Spock tensed, his whole body racked with worry. "He did not harm or threaten you did he?"

"No. He came to thank me for helping him out before and to give me something to give to you." She gestured to the box Jim had given her.

Spock barely glanced at it. "Mother, that was extremely careless. You do not know if something is dangerous in th─"

"Spock," she said gently, placing her hands on either side of his face. "Calm down. It was a false alarm. He didn't mean any harm. I scanned the box myself before I brought it. It is perfectly safe. Tiberius only wanted to give you a Christmas present. That was his only motive."

"I do not celebrate Christmas. To hack into the system just to deliver me a gift is highly illogical. Even if that was his intention, he could have asked me where to send it if he wished to deliver a physical gift."

"Humans are illogical, especially Tiberius. You know that. And I think, he wished for the gift to be a surprise. What he did wasn't right, but he was thinking of you when he did it."

Spock sat down at the small table. Oh Surak, what had he done?

"Spock?" he could hear the worry in his mother's tone.

"Mother . . . I fear I have made a sizable error that I will not be able to rectify."

At the word fear, Amanda's eyes widened. For Spock to mention an emotion ─ he never even mentioned them as a child. "Spock, what did you do?"

"I . . . I am unsure of why I did it. At the time it seemed logical, but afterwards I realized that I was mistaken. I was acting on . . . my emotions," Spock tripped up on the word. "I felt angry and betrayed, irrationally so, and I feared he retrieved your information with malicious intent. I knew there was no reason to believe Jim would act atypically, but when Jim did not explain himself, I . . . I banished him from the game."His fists clenched at his sides.

"Oh, Spock," she said softly, kneeling in front of him in attempt to see his eyes. "You've fallen harder than I thought."

"I do not understand," he muttered. Oh bless his heart, he was muttering now. Amanda could barely keep herself from hugging him.

"Spock, you should have trusted him. He is your friend, and if there is a tough patch you can't just throw in the towel." She held his hands. "I know you're over protective of me, and you want to protect me, but at least make sure I am in danger before going up in arms." She smiled at him. "It's not completely your fault though. You've never had a friend before, and all of this is new to you. All you can do is learn from this mistake and move forward."

"I do not believe Jim will be calling me friend any time soon. I have betrayed his trust in me. I do not believe our friendship can be spared." Spock felt his mother kiss the top of his head, something she hadn't done since he was a child.

"It will take time, but if you really want Jim in your life, then you must put in the effort."

"I . . . " Spock finally looked up to meet Amanda's eyes. "I do not know where to begin."

"Well, start by unbanning him from the game. From there, apologize and try to get him to listen as to why you did what you did. Work slowly up from there."

"And if Jim does not wish to be friends anymore?"

Amanda's heart broke at the lost look in Spock's eyes. He looked like a young child, lost and vulnerable. She did not want to tell him the truth, not when it looked like the answer would make it worse. "Then you'll have to move on without him."

Spock closed his eyes. "I do not know if I can. I cannot sleep or meditate without thinking of him. I cannot lift my shields without being crushed by emotions. I cannot even bare to look at my computer. I do not understand what is wrong with me. How can he affect me like this?"

Amanda wanted to tell him. She had never thought she would see the day with Spock being engaged to T'Pring. She never thought she would see the day that Spock would be in love. Especially so deeply. But if she brought his feelings to the light, it would be harder to get him to move on. Why did it have to be someone he could never have? If it had been a normal human, than perhaps something could have been worked out, but Jim was . . . Jim would not have time for Spock. Not when he was chosen for the program. "I do not know. All I do know Spock, is that since you've been with him, he has made you see parts of yourself that you never acknowledged before. He has made you act like yourself. And that, in my book, is a friendship worth keeping."

Yes, tell him that Jim was only a friend. That it was normal to feel that way for a friend, so he wouldn't think of Jim as more. Her hands tightened their grip. She felt horrible for lying to him. For misleading him like this, but she could not bear to see him like this in the future only a hundred times worse when Jim left. There had to be a barrier to keep Spock from moving forward with a romantic relationship and that was the word friend.

Spock nodded, already looking a bit better. His eyebrows furrowed in a way, that made her look at him closer. It was his "I'm sick and hiding it" look. "Is something else wrong?"

"A headache that has been quite persistent. It had become almost unbearable yesterday night."

Amada froze. There were very few reasons for a Vulcan to be unable to block a headache and for it to get so bad to the point a Vulcan is unable to suppress the pain. One was a mental/health problem. Given Spock was young and recently had a physical, that should not be an issue. The second was a mental attack or a meld gone wrong. As Spock most likely hadn't melded with anyone, and he was safe on Vulcan surrounded by other Vulcans there was little chance he was being mentally assaulted. That left the third option. . .

"Spock, how is your bond with T'Pring."

Spock stopped himself from frowning though he barely managed it. "It is blocked. I did not wish to know when T'Pring was having intercourse with Stonn."

"When was the last time you examined your bond. Perhaps the problem is that the bond is being starved," she suggested, but he shook his head immediately disregarding the idea.

"Our bond has always been weak. Even before, I often blocked my side of the bond not wishing to feel her thoughts. As it is a pre-marital bond, it requires little maintenance. Only strong, compatible minds can have such side effects in the pre-marital stage of a bond. To have the effects you are undoubtedly thinking of, it would have to be a brand new marital bond which requires physical and well as mental joinings."

The woman looked worried and tried to hide it. If it wasn't for the fact Spock was so distracted, she would have failed spectacularly. "Try to rest Spock. If it continues, we'll go to a healer and see if we can find out what's wrong. Keep your shields in place, just in case it is a bad bond between you and T'Pring." And to keep Spock from possibly discovering a bond with Jim.

"Yes, Mother."

Amanda stood, and with the promise of homemade plomeek soup and kreya bread, she left him alone.

Spock sat in silence trying to organize his thoughts. A futile attempt, but he tried. After a few minutes, he gave up and focused on the box in front of him for the first time. The box had been badly wrapped. There was an excess amount of gaudy red paper decorated with evergreen trees covered in lights that fit loosely around the box as well as a generous amount of tape that tried to compensate for the extra paper.

He had seen pictures of Christmas presents. He was certain that this was not the correct way to wrap the box. He could picture Jim sitting on his floor trying to wrap it, and failing repeatedly, before getting frustrated and putting it together the best he could before deciding throwing the box out the window was a better idea. It was a marvel to discover that Jim was actually bad at something. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost. He wasn't that far gone yet.

Carefully and methodically, he removed the paper and ripped off the tape keeping the box closed. Inside there were two items. Spock pulled out the first item. It was a multi-platform item. The surface of each platform was made of glass and had checkered patterns of white and black. There were also small metal pieces, one set black, the other silver, of different shapes and sizes. There was also a manual that read _Introduction to three-dimensional Chess_.

Intrigued, and coincidentally his headache receding some in response, he pulled out another item that was careful wrapped in tissue paper. He removed the covering just as carefully only to look at the item in his hand stunned.

It was a sculpture made of stone. A sculpture of a sehlat, which looked suspiciously like I-Chaya, lying down, relaxed, as it watched a small Vulcan child, dressed in Vulcan garbs, who was asleep and laying against the creature in a sitting position with a very small smile on his face. In the child's hands was a small sparkling blue ball of glass that had kind of looked like Jim's dragon egg. Spock stared at the small carving of the child and confirmed that it was supposed to be a younger version of him.

Throat dry, his set the object down to pull out the letter placed in the box.

_Before you say anything, I am aware you probably don't celebrate Christmas and that you definitely think gift giving is illogical, but I wanted to give it to you anyway so hah!_

_I wasn't sure what to get you since you like logic and stuff, but I ended up deciding on two sentimental items (and yes I'm aware of the irony). One for you and one for me._

_The chess set belonged to my dad. It was the only thing I ever had of his that made me feel connected to him. I wanted you to have it. Chess is a logical game, and you can use it around your colleagues without them judging you. It's a good set so take care of it._

_The other is just for you. I wanted you to know that I'm always listening to you, and accept who you are. I'm sure I-Chaya is watching over you still too in giant bear/cat heaven (I realized that you never told me if I-Chaya was a cat or dog, so I figured I'd keep him as a sehlat). I hope the statue reminds you of that._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Jim_

Spock looked back at the statue. It was a beautiful piece of work, and painted with a steady hand. Jim must have spent quite a bit of money on such a customized piece. His gaze then fell to the chess set. He knew how Jim felt about his father, both pride and anger.

He had promised that he wouldn't betray him. It had not even been a full day before he went back on his word. Placing the gifts back into the box, he checked his PADD. There were many messages awaiting for him. Fifteen were from various teams asking him where he was. Three were from his parents. Twenty-two were from Jim.

Spock read through the messages, inwardly cursing himself for his weakness. Jim had begged and pleaded at first, offered his explanation, telling him about the gifts, that he wanted to surprise him. Then the messages became angry, demanding that he pick up and to talk to him, that he was being a coward, but the last message made him feel cold. It was three simple words and told him what the Vulcan already knew, yet it hurt more than any insult that had been thrown at him.

_I trusted you._

Spock sat down on his bed and gave into a very human impulse and sighed. Anytime he acted on his emotions, he would regret it until his Vulcan training kicked in. Kaiideth. What's done is done. What is, is. He could not change what he had done, but he could try to repair it as his mother had suggested. His first task was to unban Jim from the game.

* * *

Picking himself out of bed was not an easy task. When Jim first woke up, it took him a moment to realize that he was no longer in the apartment with Bones. It took even longer to push down a forming headache. So far, he was wishing school never ended. Then all this never would have happened.

Despite all this, a part of him still wanted to see Spock. Most likely to introduce him to his right hook. At least, that's what he told himself. Deciding it was better to focus on other things, Jim changed his train of thought to last night's dinner.

It was awkward to say the least. No one really spoke. Derek tried to make small talk, but Jim wasn't in the mood humor him. Wionna shot him worried glances but didn't push for which Jim was grateful for. Sam's flight had been delayed, so he wasn't coming until the afternoon.

Jim shifted on his bed. He was feeling restless. That was never a good thing. Being restless was what often got him in trouble in the first place, the need to be active and do something. Here in Iowa, there was not much for a young genius to do.

It was still early, the sun just visible over the horizon. That also meant no one was awake. Jim got up, dressed and went out for a run. It was a ritual he did every morning. Starfleet was still technically a military branch even if their focus was discovering new worlds and life. Which also meant that every morning before classes, he was up and running with the rest of his classmates, minus the doctors of course; though, Bones had to maintain a certain level of fitness on his own time.

He ran along the dirt road, leading from his house. He was a good five miles outside of town. He could run half way there and back in under an hour. The scenery was lacking, only flat farmland to look at during his jog, and brought memories he didn't want. Memories of driving his bike, driving the antique corvette. . .

Suddenly, the run didn't look so appealing anymore, and he turned back just before he hit the one mile mark. 1.8 miles was still a decent run, but it didn't burn off enough of that restless feeling. If he wasn't thinking about Spock, he was thinking about Frank. If he wasn't sad, he was angry. He really couldn't take much more of this. He was only human.

He didn't dare go back in the stifling house. Instead, he went to the barn out back and smiled seeing his old work bench. There was a new one in the barn as well, but his stuff remained untouched. His fingers touched the old parts still cluttering the metal surface, coating his fingertips with grease and dust.

He did say he was restless. . .

He glanced at the tools on the other workbench. Must belong to Derek. Surely, he wouldn't mind if his stepson used his stuff right?

Smiling, he picked up the welding tools.

* * *

Spock had missed the message at first. Amongst the other messages, it seemed insignificant since it was from his game account alerting him he had a message in his inbox. Since it obviously couldn't have been from Jim, he didn't think anything of it. At another message from his gaming account, he finally worked up the courage to look at his inbox, believing perhaps Jim was trying another strategy to contact him since messaging his PADD had not worked previously.

He buried his disappointment when he saw it was from Horatio. It was a short message. _Meet me at the Ferengi Inn, you damned hobgoblin. 1900 EST_

This certainly did not bode well. The doctor was quite protective over Jim. It was 1859 EST when he had received the message. He debated whether it was a good idea to go into the game, but in the end decided that Horatio might be the only way to get to Jim.

He had barely materialized in front of the Inn for a second when he was struck and sent to the ground. He looked at his attacker to see Horatio standing over him with murder in his eyes. "What the hell did you do you good for nothing hobgoblin?!"

Spock looked down, unable to defend himself. He deserved that. He could feel the sting from the punch, though muffled thanks to the games settings that only allowed small discomfort when hit or attacked so the user was aware that they had taken damage instead of any real pain. He illogically wished that was not the case.

"What? Got nothing to say?" Horatio was positively red in the face from anger. "He trusted you! I thought maybe this weird ass relationship between you two wasn't too bad after all! Then I wake up at fucking 3 am to find him trashing his room and crying. Crying for the love of God! He didn't even cry when he had a broken leg with the bone breaking the skin, so what the fuck did you do to him?!"

"Jim was crying?" Horatio opened his mouth to yell again. Spock didn't know what expression he was making, but the doctor stopped whatever he was going to say, closing his mouth and reconsidering his words.

"Yeah. He was really upset," he said slowly, taking in Spock's expression. His expression was subtle, but the guilt was there, and McCoy knew that if he was able to interpret what the elf was thinking, then Spock was seriously distressed. "What happened?"

"Jim . . . hacked the game. I became . . . compromised and banned him. I realize now I was in error. . . Did I really make him cry?"

It seemed as if Spock could not get passed that part. It wasn't a surprise. Jim was a proud individual. It would take a lot to make him break. Like heartbreak for an example. Figures Jim would fall in love with an individual even more emotionally stunted and stubborn than himself. He couldn't deny it anymore. These two morons were in love and they were having their first goddamned lover's spat. McCoy growled, rubbing both hands through his hair viciously.

"You really messed up you know that?" He spat.

Spock nodded seemingly tired. The lack of verbal response made McCoy really look at Spock. He looked exhausted which was hard to tell in the game when only facial expressions were translated into code and not the other signs of fatigue like dark bags and red eyes. "When's the last time you slept?"

"It has been five point two days since I have slept over two hours at a time," Spock responded.

"Only one decimal place? Now I know you're tired," Horatio grumbled. "And no wonder you screwed up!"

"Doctor, I think we have established that I have erred greatly. If you would, I would appreciate your assistance in apologizing to Jim."

Horatio groaned, rubbing his eyes. He came here to beat the crap out of Spock, not to play mediator again. He couldn't help but remember Jim's face as he cried or the faces of joy he made over the past two months. Looking, at Spock's miserable face too was like placing a kicked puppy in front of him. It was just weird to see Spock like that. No, he's supposed to be an emotionless bastard he could taunt.

Spock stood up again, just to be punched again, just as hard. He looked up at Horatio in surprise.

"The first one was for making him cry. That one was because I hate both of you."

Spock blinked, clearly confused.

"How do you plan to apologize to him?"

"I . . . do not know. I have sent him messages to speak to him, but he will not respond. I also unbanned his account. I am waiting for him to log in."

"Well you're going to be waiting for a while. Jim destroyed his helmet, computer, terminal, and pretty much all his technology. While I'm sure he'll eventually replace the computer and terminal since he needs it for school, I doubt he's going to go out and buy a helmet."

"I see," Spock said.

"And even if he did, I doubt he'd try to get back into the game anytime soon. And if he does, he's not going to be in a listening mood."

Spock looked at his hands. "I have an idea, but I will need your help to do it."

Horatio frowned. "I'm listening."

* * *

Jim looked at the object on the workbench he had created and frowned. He made a hover bike. One even better than the one he gave away. It should have made him feel better. He now had something to escape on if he needed time to himself, yet it wasn't enough. Not enough of a distraction. He couldn't get Spock's voice out of his head.

_Are you sure a motorized bicycle is suitable for travel?_

_If you increase the electromagnetism of the plates by .0154 percent . . ._

_Jim, I am aware you will discard my advice, but I must insist that you wear a helmet. Chances that death, should you have an accident, is . . ._

_Jim . . ._

"Argh!" He slammed his fist on the table. "Get out of my head already."

"Careful there, Son. You almost hit the soldering iron."

With a quick glance over his shoulder, the young man confirmed it was Derek who had spoken. "Don't call me that. I barely tolerate Pike saying it."

"Sorry. I'll try to refrain." Jim heard him approach from behind. "Nice bike. Looks like it would be a sweet ride too."

"Yeah, it will be if I finish it," Jim replied.

Derek went silent then walked to his own bench. "You know at first I thought your attitude was because you hated being home and hated me, but with the lack of glares at me, getting lost in thought constantly, moping, and that little outburst just now, I'm thinking that it's not me, it's you."

More silence.

A chuckle escaped Kirk, finally turning around to face the man. "You're right. It is me. Truthfully, since I've been here I haven't once thought about you or mom."

"Let me take a wild guess then. You just broke up with someone."

He snorted. "Close, but no. We're not dating, and he's a guy."

"So."

Jim blinked. "I'm straight."

"Maybe he's the one guy you'll go gay for because to me you're acting like you were just dumped."

Him, in love with Spock. No, that was ridiculous. He's only been into girls. He was attracted to them. He liked them. It wasn't possible. "Doesn't matter. Won't be seeing him again."

"Right. I came to tell you that you got a message from a guy named Leonard McCoy. He said that you needed to get to a terminal and check your e-mail. Said it was important, and that you'd really regret it if you didn't."

Jim went wide eyed. Bone's saying something was important usually meant Jim was late for a vaccine or doctor's appointment or something really was important, and since he had already taken care of his medical stuff. . .

"Why didn't you say so sooner?!"

He was up and out of the barn, running all the way to the house. He bypassed a petite brunette on the porch, not acknowledging her presence and went straight to the study. Another man sat at the computer who looked similar to Jim except for his slightly darker hair, brown eyes, and older face. He looked up in surprise. "James?"

"I need the computer." It wasn't the most polite way to greet Sam, but his imagination was running wild. Did something happen to Bones? Did someone die? Was it Joanna? Did he get a letter about his candidacy?

"Hello to you too," the older man muttered. "What's the hurry?"

Without preamble, he shoved Sam out of the chair, took his place, and typed away at the keyboard.

"Really Jimmy? Real mature." Jim didn't respond to the nickname. More than a little concerned he asked, "is everything okay?"

"Give me a minute alone okay. I need to listen to a message."

"Uh, sure."

Jim had a few messages. One was from the admiralty. He was to meet with them immediately after Christmas break. Another one was of his final grades. He already knew his grades and didn't bothering opening that one. The newest one was from Bones saying he needed to watch the entire video attached. He stressed his short message with five exclamation points. It must have been really important.

He clicked on the video; his heart beating like crazy as to what possibly could warrant such dramatics from his friend that wasn't about his health, social life, or general behavior.

He was surprised by the face that greeted him.

Spock stared back at him. Dark brown eyes, that pulled him in, tall lean frame, shiny black hair. At first Jim thought it was from the game. Spock looked identical to the elf in the game and the room in the background was similar to the one Jim had spent his afternoons in, but the image of Spock was too detailed. Spock may have looked similar, but Jim could see every crease of his face, the darkness beneath his eyes, the round ears, and the emotions he tried desperately to contain.

Spock's hands were folded in front of him, his hands clenched tightly as he fought for control. He looked like shit, Jim thought.

Seeing Spock, he felt happy at first which was quickly replaced with irritation and anger. Why would Bones send this to him? He never wanted to see Spock's face again. The only thing that stopped him from turning off the video was Spock's state. Spock carried himself the same way he did in real life, graceful in his movements and controlled features, but the little differences, the ones he knew didn't belong, the slight hunch in his posture, his shaking hands, all signaling exhaustion.

"Jim," he started, his voice the same as the game, but deeper, richer. "I understand that the probability of you not wishing to see me is high." He glanced down as if ashamed before controlling the urge and looked back up at the screen. "But I wish to talk to you. I ask that you understand that it is very difficult to speak of my emotions. This . . . this is my thirty-seventh attempt to create a video for you. I am . . . I am not proficient in my ability to convey my emotions. I have informed you that in my culture it is imperative to control one's emotions at all times. That night. . . I failed to do so. My emotions influenced my actions."

It almost seemed to cause Spock pain to admit it aloud, trying hard to bury all his emotions under the mask, but too weary to do it well. "I somehow found logic in my actions at the time of our quarrel. I now realized that it was not logic, but my own failings. As I keep my emotions under my control a vast majority of the time, I am not accustomed to managing them when I feel them so strongly, and they controlled me. For that, I apologize."

Spock looked down once again, keeping his gaze on his hands. "I have wronged you, and I am aware that you may not wish to continue our friendship. I have betrayed your trust. I do not suspect a simple apology will repair what I have done. I only request another chance to be your friend and for permission to try to earn your trust once more."

Jim watched Spock straighten in his seat and fix his eyes at the camera again. "You are my first and most cherished friend. In my world, to say such things aloud would bring shame to me. I am not supposed to feel sentimentality or prefer to spend my time with one person over another. In conclusion, I am saying that I am still learning how to be a "good" friend. . . I would prefer to learn with you."

Spock unfolded his hands and typed something. "I have unbanned you from the game. Horatio has informed me that because of my mistake you no longer posses the devices to play. If you wish to play again, whether you agree to see me or not, there is a link attached to this video. Enter the place of address and the items will be sent to you free of charge in 24 hours. If you wish to see me, I will be waiting at the cliffs." Spock paused, as if unsure if he should say his next words.

"I have received your gifts. . . Thank you, Jim. They are beautiful. I understand if you want them back after what has transpired. They are more than what I deserve. Live long and prosper." The video stopped, signaling its end.

It was hard to stay mad after that. Kirk somehow still managed it, but it wasn't as intense as it was before. He seemed really sorry. It was the first legit apology he had ever received, and Spock wasn't even expecting instant forgiveness. What annoyed him however, was the way Spock kept putting himself down like he was broken, like something was wrong with him. Was it twisted to use that annoyance and turn it back on Spock cause he still wanted to be angry? Probably, but he didn't want to forgive just yet.

As promised, there was a link at the end of the video. He used it and sent the address, so he could start playing again as soon as possible. Whether he decided to forgive Spock was another story; he wouldn't give up the free computer. He needed it for his classes.

Once that was done, he sent a rather colorful letter to his friend about his meddling then re-watched the video again. He tried 37 times to get his apology just right. He looked ashamed, yet still prideful. This was the real Spock. The man at the other end of the computer. He was so honest he kept his appearance and mannerisms exactly the same in the game world. Honest enough to admit he made a very bad mistake and blamed no one but himself to the point it was a fault. Damn, it was hard to stay mad.

Even deciding not to forgive right off the bat, he felt better, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt better than he had the previous two days. A smile snuck its way onto his lips.

"So, is your emergency over with?" Sam was standing at the door with a frown.

Jim was confused until his brain helpfully supplied he had been there earlier in his rush to find out why Bones had been so urgent. "Sam!"

"He finally realizes I'm here. Took you long enough, Jimmy."

Jim's smile turned into a scowl. "Don't call me that! And I should punch you for convincing mom to not tell me she was getting married."

"Can we fight over this later? It was a rough trip. I kind of just want to give you an awkward manly hug, introduce you to the wife, get some food, and head to bed."

Jim gave him an awkward hug, keeping some space between their bodies and giving a weird pat on the back and was dragged out to meet Aurelan, the small brunette he had passed earlier. He also noticed the woman's swollen belly and felt a bit of guilt for being so self absorbed that he didn't offer to help her into the house. He officially greeted his mother too.

Derek watched his youngest stepson finally interact with the family. The young man was still a bit tense and awkward around them, but he wasn't lost in thought anymore. Whatever that message was, it lifted Jim's spirit. That Leonard guy must have been someone real special.

* * *

Spock laid down on his bed, ready to go to sleep. After seeing that his offer had been accepted and sent to some address in Iowa, Spock had found himself relaxed enough to finally get some sleep. His headache was mostly gone, and he was feeling pretty good. He might even be able to meditate afterwards.

He had just closed his eyes and started to drift when his communicator buzzed obnoxiously. He glanced at the item before glaring at the small silver device. In the end, he got out of bed and answered. "Spock here."

"Spock," his father's voice came over the speaker. Spock inhaled sharply. He had forgotten that he had agreed to meet T'Lyra. He had put it off twice. He doubted he could manage it again. It was rude.

"I apologize, Father. I will dress and be at the place of meeting in 27 minutes."

"Understood. Your mother will be joining us for the meal since she is in town. She insisted."

"Very well." Spock hung up, and took care of his appearance, trying to look somewhat presentable. After missing work for a second day, he was sure everyone was aware of his absence. He could not hide his fatigue. He predicted that after his appearance in public today, everyone will speculate that he had been ill. He would not correct them.

He put on his nice robes, the ones his mother had bought him before she left for earth, cleaned up his face, combed his hair and was on his way to one of the few restaurants in town.

It was quiet, no different from the rest of Vulcan in that regard. Dining was outside at round, cloth covered, stone tables. The sun had already set, and there was a cool breeze around them. It was different then what he had become accustomed to. He had grown fond of the loud atmosphere of the taverns, and when it was just him and Jim relaxing in the palace, he would listen to Jim's laughter and boisterous story telling.

He took a seat next to his mother and across from the Vulcan woman. T'Lyra was tall, with the traditional dark hair and dark eyes that most Vulcans of the region had, and still dressed in her instructor's uniform. She must have come straight from the academy.

"T'Lyra," Spock raised his hand in greeting. He almost apologized for being late; he quickly squashed the urge to do so. Vulcans do not apologize.

"Spock," she greeted back. She waited for Spock to take his seat. "I have heard much of you Spock. The academy is very preoccupied with your research project."

"Indeed. It has been six point four two centuries since Vulcan has considered making first contact with another species. This can prove to be very beneficial if the council decides to make first contact."

"The ambassador also tells me that you focus on many other subjects at the academy. One of them was pre-Surakian history."

"I have found the subject to be enlightening." Spock said, taking a sip of the water the waiter had brought out. He wondered if Jim was going to meet him. He never did receive a response to his message. Was he too forward? Did Jim find the emotionalism behind it distasteful? Or was there not enough? Humans were so complicated.

She talked about her research, and Spock listened absentmindedly. A few times his mother kicked him under the table when she caught him not paying attention. He wasn't sure if it was that obvious or if Amanda just knew her son that well, either way, T'Lyra either didn't notice or didn't care. Spock answered with the appropriate responses and questions, so he didn't understand why she was kicking him so much. His shin was beginning to feel sore.

His father on the other hand was quiet throughout the entire meal watching him. What was his father after?

The meal finished and she excused herself having to grade exams before tomorrow. Spock fell silent again, finishing off his water.

"Was she acceptable?" Sarek asked.

Spock met his steady gaze. "Yes. She will be fine. If you excuse me, I have something I must do."

"Spock, do you actually like her or will you take anyone?" His mother placed a hand on his arm. "You obviously weren't paying attention to her."

"Mother, I have no preference of who is to be my bondmate. If T'Lyra is willing, then it is decided."

"Spock, just tell me why you're not attracted to her, and we'll find a different candidate." She watched him expectantly.

She wasn't going to drop the matter until he answered. He could already tell she was digging her heels in metaphorically speaking.

What was he to say? That he was not attracted to her dark hair and eyes? That she was indistinguishable from other Vulcans? That when she spoke he did not feel at ease with himself or with her? And her eyes didn't sparkle with mischief? This situation was not looking favorably towards him. Why was he comparing everyone and everything with Jim?

"She did not acknowledge your presence," he finally said. "She only spoke of her own work, and there are only negligible differences between her and T'Pring."

"I see," his mother frowned, rubbing her eyes. "You look tired dear. Go on home and get some rest."

"Goodbye,Mother." Spock left quickly.

Amanda watched him, sighing heavily and looking back at her husband who drank his tea. "I do not believe he is going to budge from the human."

"It does appear that way," Sarek said calmly. It earned him a skeptical look from his wife.

"Sarek, this is serious. What is he going to do? If he does not bond with anyone here, he'll be alone for his time."

"He is stubborn. We will not be able to change his mind if he has settled on this human," Sarek set his cup down. "When this relationship fails, we will be here."

"But─"

"There is nothing else we can do. He is almost an adult. We cannot keep him from making mistakes."

Amanda nodded at her husband's words. "You are right of course." She picked up his cup and took a drink, ignoring his Vulcan glare. "I know it's illogical, but I hope that somehow they do manage to be together. Spock is so happy with him."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. Amanda giggled at his open behavior. Well, open to her. She could always read him like a book even if no one else could. "I was informed you wished for grandchildren."

She shrugged. "They could adopt. I just want him happy." She could imagine Spock trying to be a father. Trying being a key word. If he was anything like his father, and those two were similar even if they both denied it, he would look very uncomfortable with a crying child in his arms. She sighed again.

"Anything else you wish to tell me about, my wife? You have been keeping something form me."

She made a face. "You make it very difficult to keep things from you."

"We are bonded. There shouldn't be a need," he replied, forgoing his strategy to get his cup back.

"Well," she stirred the contents of the tea with her finger. She was intentionally teasing him by doing so. Vulcans did not eat with their hands for multiple reasons. One reason because they were touch telepaths and took very good care of their hands when possible, the other being it could also be an erogenous zone and could be considered racy to do so.

There was a small smile on her lips the way her husband's eyes darkened. He took her hand, moving it away from the cup. "Well?"

"I think Spock might have made a pre-marital bond with Jim thus why he's been having so many headaches." She used her other hand instead to trace the rim of the cup.

Sarek's eyes were glued to her hand. It was so easy sometimes. Didn't help that she had been away for so long. Vulcans had needs too and so did she. "You think he's suffering the effects of a starved bond."

She nodded.

"Not possible. Even if their minds can come in contact in the simulation, Spock is not a mind adept."

"But he is a strong telepath, and if they're minds are compatible enough, it could have been created accidentally."

Sarek was distracted, she thought, very amused. She knew he could pick up her amusement through the bond, and he looked away, pretending to be as stoic as ever. "You are being very provocative, others can see you."

"I hear a bit of possessiveness in your tone, Sarek," she said quietly. "It has been a while. Not since your time a year and a half ago."

Hunger flashed in his eyes before it was suppressed. Oh, yeah, she definitely had him if his mask slipped. "It is possible. Spock will eventually discover it on his own if it does exist and consider his options. Until he does, I suggest that we depart. We have matters to attend to."

She smiled at the soft flush of green dusting his cheeks, knowing exactly what he was thinking of. She never got tired of undoing her Vulcan. "I believe we do."


	10. Family Expctations

How long does it take for them to make a delivery? Jim paced in front of the small porch. He knew how bad it was for him to be this anxious. He shouldn't ache so much to enter _ShiKahr_. He shouldn't ache to see I-Chaya or his baby dragon, or to see Spock again.

He didn't even know what exactly he should be feeling when it came to Spock. He hadn't decided whether he should meet him tonight or keep him waiting. He didn't even know what he was going to say. Oh, god, what if when his account was suspended everything was lost? Jim scowled. Spock better sleep with one eye open if that ended up being the case. He would not lose two months of his life!

So Jim had found himself waiting for the delivery truck, waiting for the package that would let him return to his fictional world. After all, once this last semester was over, he would not be able to play but on occasion. He would have to put it all behind him, assuming that the meeting with the admirals when break was over was a good thing and not them not trying to kick him out or anything. As far as he could remember, he had done nothing to get himself in trouble.

"James, what are you doing pacing by the porch?! Get in here and help us put up decorations," Wionna stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, her bright blonde hair pulled into ponytail. He had almost laughed when he saw her wearing an apron. When he thought of Wionna, he didn't see her as wife. He saw her as a Starfleet officer.

His entire stay had been odd. Wionna seemed blissfully happy with Derek, making lovey dovey eyes and flirting with him every other moment. It seemed that she had finally moved past George's death. He had never seen her act like a school girl with her previous boyfriends.

Meanwhile, it was hard to act normal with Sam. His wife was lovely. She was polite, good in conversation, and excited about her child. Jim liked her, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Sam for long periods of time without wanting to punch him in the face. He still had not completely forgiven him for leaving when they were children.

"I'm waiting for something, Mom."

"Well, you can help while you wait. The deliveryman will knock when he gets here."

Jim muttered under his breath before heading inside. Sam and Derek had gone out to get a Christmas tree the previous night. It wasn't common to chop down evergreen trees anymore and artificial or hologram trees seemed to suit most people's needs, but this year, they all decided to be a bit more traditional and get a real one.

Sam sat beside his wife concentrating hard on the string of cranberries and popcorn on the sofa, while Derek struggled to untangle the lights.

"Help Derek with the lights will you?" Wiona asked.

With some muttering, he picked up a section still tangled on the floor and slowly got to work untangling them.

Other than the soft Christmas music playing in the background, it was quiet in the room.

"So James, I hear you're really good at chess." Derek took it upon himself to fill the silence.

Jim didn't speak at first, cursing as he accidentally made another knot worse by untangling the previous one. "I suppose," he grumbled as he tried to delicately undo his work.

"Jim's just being modest. He received the senior master ranking just before he entered high school. I'm sure if he continued playing he would have reached grandmaster." Wionna said proudly.

Jim ignored the conversation. He had stopped playing chess right before he turned 14. While he played occasionally to win some easy money from his classmates, he no longer did official matches, and he was fine with that.

"Well I'm not too bad myself," the man smiled down at Jim. "Perhaps we can play a game."

"What a wonderful idea!" Wionna exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "George's set should be around here somewhere. Jim used to adore that thing."

The man in question stiffened, not bothering to comment. Dammit, how had no one figured out how to keep all the lights from going out if one little light stops working? Or were Christmas lights so low on the priority list, no one bothered to update them. Maybe he should patent and sell an updated version.

"Where is that set Jim?" His mother asked.

He continued to fiddle with the lights before muttering, "I gave it away to a friend of mine for Christmas."

"You what?!"

It was hard not to wince at the sheer shock in his mother's voice. "I gave it to someone for Christmas," he repeated. "I thought he would appreciate it more than me."

"But you loved that thing."

He did. He still remembered playing with his mother whenever she came home from the colony or space station with a cup of cocoa in his hands. "It's in good hands," he said reassuringly before throwing the jumble of lights onto the ground. "Can't we just buy new ones? This is going to take us 'til New Years before we get it working."

Everyone was staring at him strangely and after a few seconds of it, it was making him uncomfortable. The only one not staring was Derek who seemed like he knew something no one else did. "What?"

"Well I hope you got everyone else such meaningful Christmas presents," Sam said offhandedly, still staring at him suspiciously.

Jim fidgeted.

"Don't tell me," Sam said dryly. "You didn't get us anything."

"We haven't exchanged gifts since I was ten!" Jim crossed his arms defensively, cheeks red.

"Really Jim? You got your friend something, but not your family?" Wionna sounded disapproving.

"We haven't exchanged gifts in 12 years," Jim repeated, exaggerating his point. "I didn't know we changed the rules. And he was different."

"Leave the kid alone, Wionna. Christmas isn't about the gifts. It's a gift in itself that he is here with us for the holidays." Derek kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Before Jim could say how corny that line was, the doorbell rang. "Finally!" He was up and out of the room in a blink of an eye.

He signed for the package and ran up the stairs. "I'll be down in two hours!" He called over his shoulder.

Wionna sighed while her husband chuckled. "Still a kid."

"He's only 22. Still a college student. Let him be a kid for a while longer. He'll be active service soon enough," the elder muttered, kissing her again. "Besides, whatever was in that box must have been important. Why else would he be waiting around for it all day?"

Wionna nodded still wondering what could make Jim act like a child after so many years of acting so grown up.

* * *

While the game was installing and the helmet calibrating to his biochemistry, Jim thought of what he wanted to say to Spock. He wrote down some things on the scraps of paper from old schematics thrown about his room. He wrote down the reasons he should forgive Spock, and reasons he shouldn't. He wrote the things he wished to say to him that still pissed him off and questions he wanted to ask. There were so many things he wanted to say and do. A part of him wanted to slug the irritating elf while another part just wanted to put it all behind him. Getting his thoughts on paper helped some. The feel of the paper had a calming effect on him even though it was a bit pricey to obtain.

"So who's Spock?"

Jim whirled around in his chair to see his brother standing at the door with one of the aborted plans he had thrown on the floor. Jim frowned.

"Don't look so surprised, Jimmy. You really should have closed out of your messages on the computer before leaving if you didn't want anyone looking at them," Sam smirked.

The younger Kirk couldn't help but blush in embarrassment. "What do you want Sam?"

"Just wanted to ask if this Spock guy was the one you gave Dad's chess set to." Sam sounded too innocent.

"So what if he is?" Jim muttered, crumpling his plans. He would just wing it like he always did.

"Nothing…so he's kind of hot."

Jim's blue eyes became wide at the comment. "Wow Sam…I never knew you were bi. Does your wife know?" He was kidding of course, but there was a bubble of irritation in his chest, and it bothered Jim that he didn't know why.

Sam was quiet for a moment then walked into the room shrugging. "I'm not bi," he said casually not taking the bait and getting offended. "Just stating a fact." He looked at the unfinished projects sitting on the desk. "So what exactly was he apologizing for?"

"Nothing you need to worry about Sam. Don't you have decorating to do or something?" the younger brother grumbled, fiddling with the settings on his new computer. He was encrypting the hell out of it so Sam couldn't get access to its contents or use it. Granted Sam was old enough to know better than to touch his computer without asking, but as they say, old habits die hard.

"Mom let us have a break since you left. She's making cookies." Sam picked up a small model of a cold fusion device that was partially finished. "He didn't seem sincere by the way. This Spock character looked like he could care less. Kind of spoke like a computer too. Seems like an emotionally repressed jackass."

Jim looked up, glaring. Was that really how others saw Spock? "What the hell are you talking about? He looked horrible."

"Why are you defending him? He wronged you right?"

He was fishing for something, Jim realized. "Just drop it Sam."

"Touchy, touchy, Jimmy." Sam taunted, grinning.

"Get out!"

"Alright, alright," he said backing away towards the door. "I was just concerned. I mean, I don't want you to be with a psychopath or anything. Anyway, say hi to your boyfriend for me."

Sam paused at the door and watched his little brother process what he just said. He saw the exact moment when Jim finally got it, his cheeks reddening. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Sam ducked into the hallway just before a wrench hit him, the tool colliding with the wall and leaving a dent in the dry wall. He cursed.

"James Tiberius Kirk!" His mother shouted from somewhere downstairs.

"Sam did it!" he shouted back.

He heard his mother coming up the stairs. Eager to avoid that confrontation, he put on the helmet and moved to the bed, turning on the program.

He heard his mother cursing before his consciousness slipped into the game.

* * *

He didn't come, Spock thought, returning to the palace. He had seen Jim enter the game, but Jim did not message him or come see him at the cliffs. He would return tomorrow, but he did not have any hope that Jim would forgive him soon. Still he had been glad to come. I-Chaya was quite upset about not being fed for the past couple days. He had been close to leaving them, and a wild sehlat in town would not end well.

He planned to feed I-Chaya one more time before leaving. He had left Jim's room untouched. After Jim started visiting his home on a daily basis, Spock set up a room for him to use however he wished. Spock had never been in Jim's room out of respect, and Jim never spent much time in it. It made it all the stranger when he kept hearing noises coming from it occasionally, things being knocked down. He had to reign in his curiosity to keep from checking. He knew it wasn't Jim though because he checked to see if the man had logged in and he hadn't.

He opened the front door and paused. Illogically, his mouth felt dry as he took in the sight before him.

Jim sat in a chair he had dragged from the living room to the front of the stairs. He was leaning back, legs slightly spread. He wore the Pre-Surakian armor and a white cloth skirt/loin cloth looking thing that hung low on his hips, and a silver dragon with piercing red eyes was perched on his shoulder, its long tail wrapping around his right bicep.

Jim stared at Spock impassively, and his gaze felt like fire on Spock's skin. He had never been on the receiving end of Jim's anger. Not like this. Spock could see the cold calculations running through those eyes, and he could see the intensity that would make a lesser man crumble. The laid back posture was even more intimidating, making it seem like Spock was not worthy enough to deserve his direct attention yet made him distant at the same time. Despite all this, the lack of outward aggression and emotion, Jim looked primal and dangerous and therefore fitting for the armor he wore.

"Jim," he greeted, keeping his voice as even as possible. He had to keep his emotions in check even if the sight of Jim made his chest feel lighter and instigated a bit of arousal . . . arousal? Spock slammed the door to that emotion for later analysis.

The human didn't move, just assessing him. There had been so much he wanted to say, but now it all seemed inconsequential. There was only one thing he really wanted to know. "I want to know why," he said coldly.

"Why?" Spock repeated, confused.

"Why did you assume I would go after Lady Grayson? Why did you assume I would hurt her?"

Spock looked down, unable to take those cold eyes turned towards him. "When I was younger, many of my peers attacked me. I did not respond to their attempts to provoke an emotional response from me. However, eventually they hypothesized that using my mother and using derogatory comments was the catalyst needed to force a response from me. Often, my father was away from home due to business obligations, leaving my mother and myself alone. A visiting dignitary attempted to eradicate me simply because he believed my existence was an abomination . . . then attempted on my mother's life when he failed. If I had not been there, she would have died."

Spock dared to look up again to see Jim's eyes had softened some. "I feared when you could not find information on me then went directly for my mother's that you also planned to harm her. I worry for her being so far away from my father and I where I cannot protect her."

Jim inhaled slowly, and then let it out, letting his shoulders relax. "You should have trusted me."

"I am now aware. I apologize, Jim."

Jim looked him over one last time to ensure he was being sincere then gave him a lazy smile. "As long as you know you're a jackass, we're good on that front. As for the other . . ."

"Jim?" Spock fought there urge to take an involuntary step back when Jim's expression turned into one of a very pissed off swordsman.

"WHY THE HELL IS MOST OF MY GODDAMN STUFF IS MISSING?!" Jim got out of his seat, presence imposing.

"Most high level equipment and items disappear if a player becomes suspended or banned from the game as punishment for breaking the rules," Spock replied, now understanding why Jim was in such attire. The armor had not been under those conditions so it was most likely the only decent leveled armor available for use.

It apparently was the wrong thing to say because Jim closed the distance on him, seething. "That was two months of my life! I can't get half of that shit back if I tried!"

"As it was because of my own failings, I will have all your belongings returned to you by the end of the week."

"You better," Jim fumed, crossing his arms over his chest agitated.

Spock watched the human. He was standing only a few inches away. He wanted to reach out and touch him. It was such a strong impulse to do so, and he almost gave in, but Jim backed away first.

"This is my dragon by the way," it was an abrupt change of subject, and Spock found he had missed Jim's erratic behavior.

"Since you were unable to create a name for I-Chaya, am I correct in assuming you were unable to name your new pet as well?"

Jim scowled, blushing lightly. "I could name him if I wanted to," he grumbled.

"I believe Istaya would be appropriate," Spock offered.

Jim crossed his arms. "And what does that mean?"

"Wish."

"The pronunciation sounds like it's from your language."

Spock hesitated then nodded.

Jim smirked. "Isn't wishing illogical?"

Spock did not dignify the question with an answer.

"So are there words for emotions too?" Jim inquired. "I mean you could name the dragon something else if you're going to get all sentimental. Like joy, hope, love." He laughed. "Is love even a word in your world anymore?" He shook his head. "I can't even imagine living in a place without emotions. How do people even survi─"

"Ashaya," Spock said softly. "Love. . . and beloved is Ashayam." Jim stood quietly, stunned. The words were fluid of Spock's tongue and somehow meant more in the strange language than in standard. "I have only heard the words used once outside of my education center. "From my father to my mother."

Guilt seeped into Jim's thoughts for teasing Spock about the name. He couldn't help but give the elf a hard time for how he had been treated. How did someone live in a world without talking or showing emotions even to the ones you most cared about? To be human was to love, to hate, to hurt, to dream. It was what kept humans going when there was nothing else. Spock was human, but the customs and how he spoke of his world, sometimes it felt like he really wasn't.

"Istaya is a good name." Jim finally said. The dragon nuzzled its face into Jim's neck in silent agreement.

Jim turned, looking at the chair then the rest of the house. "So . . . I don't really want to start all over, but I don't think starting where we left off is a good idea either. Any suggestions?"

"Perhaps . . . viewing a movie will instill some sense of normalcy?"

Jim went to the view screen, looking through the movies while he heard Spock enter the living area behind him. Spock took the seat on one end of the couch.

Jim choose _The Shawshank Redemption_ over _It's a Wonderful Life,_ namely because Christmas was next week and there was still plenty of time to watch it.

Jim sat on the other side of the couch, keeping more distance than usual between them. Spock did not comment about it however and let the movie start.

* * *

Hitting the hour mark of the movie, Jim felt a weight fall onto his shoulder. He jumped a little in surprise. He hadn't notice that he had shifted multiple times during the movies, getting closer to Spock as he did so in his attempt to get comfortable.

Spock's silky black hair tickled his neck, and where their skin touched felt warm and tingled pleasantly. In the back of Jim's mind, he remembered how tired Spock looked in the apology that had been sent to him.

He glanced down at the sleeping face. The elf's face was relaxed and unguarded. Spock really was beautiful.

Video forgotten, he watched Spock sleep, not moving a muscle in fear of waking him. His gaze traveled down to long, pale fingers that rested on the elf's lap. Fingers that never touched him or others, fingers that wouldn't even touch food. He rarely saw Spock's hands now that he thought about it. Spock always had his hands behind his back, below the table in his lap, or wrapped around his bow. They were something forbidden. The one thing Spock did not allow people to make contact with. And with Jim being Jim, he was drawn to things that presented him with a challenge.

He reached out with a tentative hand, brushing it against Spock's. A sharp jolt shot up his arm as Spock let out a soft huff in his sleep. Jim pulled his hand away quickly, the sensation ceasing immediately. He blinked. What was that? Slowly, he replaced his hand on the slightly cooler one, and the sensation returned. It was . . . pleasant. He slid his fingertip down the back of the elf's hand.

A soft moan escaped Spock's lips, startling Jim enough to pull his hand away, his face bright red. Was this how the sexual component of the game worked? It wasn't very well designed. There wasn't that much pleasure in touching another's hand. Then again, he never felt such a strange sensation when touching others in the game. Did the place of contact have to be in a private residence for interactions like that to work?

Jim kept his hands to himself, but he could not keep the sound of Spock's moan from replaying in his head.

* * *

Spock awoke in an unusual position. He was lying on the couch lengthwise, head against the armrest, with Jim practically on top of him. They must have both fallen asleep and shifted into this undignified position.

Spock did absolutely nothing about it. There would be no benefits to waking Jim and he was still tired. Logically, it would be best to minimize movement and continue to rest. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift back into sleep.

His last thoughts were of Jim, stroking his hands in his dreams.

* * *

"I see you have returned."

Spock glanced away from the microscope to glance at Stonn. It was unfortunate. He had been told Stonn would be away from the labs for a few more hours. He hoped to conclude his findings before then.

Stonn was a tall Vulcan and fairly muscular having trained in the ancient Vulcan arts of fighting. He also had the traditional bowlcut, dark hair and eyes, and expressionless face.

Spock straightened his back, assessing the man who had taken T'Pring. "Indeed. T'Pring is currently in Lab 23."

"I have come to speak to you on her behalf."

Spock raised an eyebrow. He did not ask for the man to elaborate and instead did a very human thing. He turned his back to him and continued his research. Stonn would speak eventually.

"She asks for you to cease shielding the bond. She has said that she is receiving headaches."

"I would prefer to compromise with her. I will cease shielding if she would cease copulating with you. I do not wish to be aware of such activities. They prove to be distracting to my work."

The comment made Stonn shift his posture. "When do you anticipate the pre-marital bond will be broken?"

"Until I find another suitable mate or it's time for the kal-if-fee." Spock scribbled down some notes onto his PADD.

"Do you plan to shield until then?"

Spock put down his stylus and turned his attention to Stonn. "Why do you inquire?"

"T'Pring's health could be affected by poor attentiveness to the bo─"

"The bond is a weak one. She will suffer no side effects from the shielding nor must you concern yourself because of it. I have no intention to challenge you for her." Spock went back to his microscope clearly dismissing him.

Stonn arched and eyebrow, but said nothing more, realizing Spock was not going to budge on the subject. Silently he left, meeting T'Pring in the hallway. "As you suspected, he will not lower the shielding around the bond. Are you certain that there is another bond?"

"He will notice soon enough. A few weeks at most. We can wait to bond for that amount of time," T'Pring glanced through the window into the lab. Spock had always been stubborn even as a child, but the bond will force itself to be known whether Spock subconsciously wants it to or not.

* * *

"Merry Christmas!" Jim smiled, passing out gifts to his family as they came in.

Wionna raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Well isn't this a surprise. I thought you'd be upstairs playing that game still," she said with disapproval in her voice.

"Yeah well, it's Christmas so I can stop for a day," he smiled.

Things had been weird the past few days. After waking and finding himself lying on top of Spock, he had quietly left the game and hadn't mentioned it since. Spock's behavior hadn't changed either, so he was pretty sure Spock was unaware that it had happened. He wasn't sure why he was embarrassed. Maybe because Spock was a guy?

His family came to sit around the Christmas tree while he passed out presents. Sam and his wife received some baby supplies along with a new replicator, Derek received some new welding tools and a new bike helmet for the hover bike Jim gave him, and Wionna got a new pair of earrings and a new holos of old ones that had been worn out.

It was nice. When was the last time he had enjoyed Christmas with his family? He himself received a new pair of clothes and a couple of paperback books. Simple gifts but appreciated. Truthfully, and this sounded corny even for him, being with his family was enough.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Sam got off the couch and hurried to the hall closet, pulling out a long narrow box wrapped in reflective red paper. "This was dropped off yesterday. The delivery guy said that it was for Jim."

Surprised, Jim took the box, studying the box and the wrapping. There was a small note attached to it. On the note were familiar swirls running on vertical along the paper obviously hand written. Below was a definition for each symbol.

Karik'es - strength

keimen'es – ferocity

ha'kiv - life

tam'a- will/spirit

puksu-fighter

He smiled, knowing exactly who it was from. Carefully he opened the perfectly wrapped gift then opened the box. Inside was his favorite sword, the blade pitch black, the handle silver, and a new feature with the ancient texts engraved into the blade. There was also a small disk and another note.

_As you have given me two gifts, I assumed it was customary to return the favor: one of sentimental value concerning ShiKahr and you, the other sentimental to me. You will be the first to listen to what's on the disk if you choose to listen to it._

_Spock_

"Jim?" His mother called out.

His head snapped up. "Huh?" He forgot others were in the room all staring at him. He also realized he was grinning ear to ear.

"So whose it from?" she pressed.

"Spock," Jim replied, closing the box. He'd have to get a display case or something for it. He briefly wondered if he could find someone to teach him how to use it. Sulu had always been good with swords . . .

"Who's Spock?"

"Jimmy's boyfriend," Sam intervened grinning.

Jim flushed. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Then why are you blushing?" Sam teased, causing Jim's face to become even more red.

"I'm not blushing! He's a good friend, that's all."

"So where did you meet Spock?" Wionna asked, leaning forward and clearly interested.

"I met him playing _ShiKahr_. We're just friends." Jim was somewhat sulking now.

"Right, friends. That's why you paced in front of the door waiting for the delivery guy, and why you spent two hours trying to draft him a letter to accept his apology few days ago, and why you gave him Dad's chess set."

"Shut up, Sam!"

"You gave him the chess set?"

Jim groaned, giving up this conversation.

"Wait, then what about the Leonard McCoy guy who called a few days ago?" Derek intervened. "I thought you liked him."

"I do not like Bones! He's my roommate and going to be my CMO if I get selected. What is wrong with you people?!"

"So you actually like this Spock character?" Derek asked.

"Why don't we listen to the tape?" Wionna suggested, somehow getting close enough to take it from Jim when he had been arguing with everyone.

"Are you even listening?" It almost came out as a whine as he watched his mother put in the small disk into the player.

Everyone waited quietly in anticipation. Soft melodious music drifted from the speakers. The sound was obviously from a string instrument, but Jim could not place what instrument. It was a completely unique timbre, crossed between a harp and a sitar. The melody was just as unique as the sound, soft and lulling and completely foreign with odd rhythms and offbeat accents. He could imagine Spock sitting with the instrument, delicate and graceful fingertips plucking the strings, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he played.

"Aww, he made Jim a song," his mother cooed. "That's so romantic."

And that killed the moment. "I told you. We're just friends," he said tiredly.

"Of course you are dear."

And that was how his entire family was now convinced he was dating Spock and deliriously in love.

* * *

Jim woke up sweating and panting, hurrying out of his bed into the shower.

Vacation had ended two days ago. After Christmas, his entire family kept asking him questions about Spock. Many he couldn't answer nor wanted to answer. He hadn't been able to meet up with Spock either though they sent occasional messages to one another.

Spock was spending time with his mother before she had to depart for another two years and had to catch up in his work that he had neglected for almost a week, so Jim understood even if he was missing the company, awkward or not.

It had been a pleasant surprise when he received an invite for online chess and was even more pleased when he learned that it was from Spock. A game took about a day to complete, no doubt because Spock could only respond occasionally throughout the day. For a beginner, he was good and rapidly improving. Jim suspected that in a few more games, Spock would be at his level. Jim could not wait for that day and he got pleasure imagining Spock sitting in his room with his father's chess set, practicing and reviewing their online games.

This dream he had last night however threw him off guard. It had started off as a normal dream. Spock and he playing _ShiKahr_ , going on quests and kicking butt as they did so. There was nothing unusual about that. Then the scene changed, to that of the battle royale. Spock in just his tight leather pants and long black hair, bow gripped in his hands. That feral look directed at him. Jim ran, his heart racing, but for a different reason. He wanted to be caught, wanted to rile Spock's primal nature and be the focus of it.

And Spock caught him, forcing him to the ground growling, telling him to submit, and Jim did. Dark eyes raked over his body wearing nothing but the ancient tattoos.

Jim closed his eyes. It had felt so real. Spock's hands on his skin, his hot breath, his rough tongue touching his. The memories went straight to his erection and made a shiver go up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold water. What the hell was wrong with him? Spock was a friend. Sure he enjoyed Spock's company, loved the man's wit and humor, and wanted to entrust all his secrets to him at times . . .

Jim froze with that last thought. Spock was close. He always had been to Jim. Even after the betrayal, Jim forgave him instead of shoving him away and never looking back. Most everything Spock did was endearing to him when it would annoy him when others did the same thing. Was it really just friendship he felt and his family's teasing just helped instigate the dream, or was there more?

A loud and obnoxious alarm yanked him out of his thoughts making Jim curse. He had overslept and was due to meet the admirals in fifteen minutes.

Shutting off the water, he hurried to get dressed into his uniform. Fortunately, Bones was not yet back from Georgia so the loud banging he made in the kitchen when grabbing a quick breakfast didn't wake anyone.

Somehow, Jim made it just in time as an assistant called for his name as soon as he got to the front desk.

Now that Jim had time to think about it on his run there, he did not know why he was being called with a week still left of winter vacation.

He was lead to a small room. A room generally used for hearings, just big enough to fit five admirals at a long table in the front and a single chair in front of them. Shit, what the hell did he do?

"Cadet Kirk, this won't take long," Admiral Barnett said, sitting in the center. Jim spotted Pike on the far right, making him pause. When did Pike become an admiral?

"May I ask why I was brought here sirs?"

Barnett chuckled. "Don't worry, Cadet. I assure you that it is for a very good reason. Admiral Marcus, would you like to do the honors?"

Admiral Marcus stood, smiling down at the young cadet. "As of the conclusion of the exams last semester, you have been selected to become Captain of the USS Enterprise. Yours and Pike's promotion will become official in two months. In that time, you will serve with Admiral Pike on the USS Farragut so you may see officially how a starship is run and receive quick hands on training in an official capacity. Afterwards, you and the crew that you choose will be the first to achieve warp on an official Starfleet vessel."

Jim stood shocked.

"Well, son? Have anything to say?" Marcus asked

"I was told that the official announcement wouldn't be made until the first week of the last semester," he said lamely, still trying to process it all. He was confident in his ability to be chosen, but it was still surreal for it to actually happen.

"The other candidates have already been given the option of continuing on the command track or being sent home. You'll be in charge of giving your new CMO the news. All the information has been sent to your PADD. You'll start your official duties to the USS Farragut one week from today. I trust you will have read up on the material by then," Barnett was smiling as well as Pike.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Kirk saluted.

"Congratulations cadet and good luck." The admirals all stood saluting him before filing out the back door.

He couldn't believe it. He was going to be captain. He was going into space to explore new worlds. See things he never seen before. It was a dream come true. He had to tell Spock.

As he exited the room, he felt a wave of sadness was over him before it as gone. What was that? And why did he think it involved Spock?

Shoving the strange incident aside, he messaged Spock asking him to meet later that night. Jim waited a few minutes and frowned. Spock didn't respond. That was strange.

For the next hour he waited a response, the joy of being selected dwindled as each minute passed. Spock never took so long to answer before. Was something wrong after all?

On a hunch, he checked his friends list in _ShiKahr_ and sure enough Spock as logged in. He thought Spock was supposed to be working all day. Taking off his uniform and getting comfortable, he entered the game the moment he got home.

Spock was sitting on the cliffs, legs draped over the edge, staring blankly at the horizon. He was wearing his _ShiKahr_ robes and had gone back to his traditional haircut. That wasn't a good sign.

"Spock? You okay?" He saw Spock give a little twitch at the sound of his voice not even aware that Jim had shown up until right then. Spock didn't say anything though or even look at him. "Spock?" Jim took a seat beside him, radiating concern now. This was just too weird. "Spock, what happened?"

The elf said nothing for several minutes until he finally said in a tightly controlled voice, "My mother . . . she is dead."


	11. T'hy'la Bonds are a Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . um. . . I got myself in trouble again. . . twice actually. I accidently offended people with my bad humor, teasing, and just trying to help, comments that I leave. I am bad at getting my thoughts across. About as bad as Spock in the turbolift in Cardinal Rule. So I won't be leaving or replying to comments anymore unless your asking a direct question. It's safer for me and other people as well.
> 
> The Vulcan translates into: Hello Mother. You have arrived safely

Jim felt his entire body freeze as he processed Spock's words. "Sh-she's . . . how? What happened?"

"Her shuttle on the way home had a malfunction that forced an emergency landing. She was the only casualty among the fifty passengers."

Jim pulled up his player menu and hastily looked up the world news. Sure enough, the announcement of the accident and the one casualty was on the headlines. "Spock …" Jim looked back at the elf. His face was perfectly blank staring off into the horizon. To anyone else, he would look deep in thought and not a complete wreck on the inside. After hearing why Spock was so overprotective, he could understand why his mother was so important to him. Amanda had been the only one to accept Spock for who he was growing up, and Spock could not help but blame himself for his mother almost getting killed when he was a child. "Spock …. I …" He didn't know what he could say to try to lessen such a loss.

"Death is inevitable, Jim. In the future we will all perish, some sooner rather than later." Spock looked down at his hands.

"But she was still your mom. It doesn't change the fact that it hurts." Jim offered.

"Indeed," he said quietly. "But it is more bearable than I predicted."

Jim frowned. "What do you mean bearable?"

"When I was a child, I tried to predict what I would do if my mother died. I however did not take into account you being here as I did not believe I would be capable of making a …."

"A friend?" Jim filled in.

Spock nodded. "Your presence helps, Jim." Spock finally looked up at him, sadness hidden in the depths of his eyes. "How did you know I was here? Were you not supposed to be at your learning institution today to meet with your academic board?"

"I got worried when you didn't reply. I just had a feeling you'd be in the game, so I checked." He left out the part where he had a terrible feeling that something was wrong in the first place. There was no way he could explain that, and he didn't really want to try.

"Thank you, Jim . . . for searching for me," he looked back at the horizon. "Your timing is impeccable as usual."

"That's me, saving the day at the last moment." He grinned.

"Indeed." Spock stood up, brushing off his clothes. "What did you wish to tell me?"

Jim froze, him mouth working uselessly. Then he forced a smile. "It's nothing Spock. Just wanted to tell you that my friends wanted to meet you this weekend, but we push it 'til later. No big deal."

"I find meeting your friends amendable."

Spock shifted, putting his hands behind his back.

"Whatever you want to say, say it."

Spock looked startled that Jim had caught him. "I was considering if I should ask if you would be amendable to helping me create a grave for my mother in ShiKahr. You have shown proficient skill in computers, and I believe my mother would appreciate your input on the design."

"Spock I . . . ." Jim shook his head. "I'd be honored."

For a moment, the corners of Spock's lips turned up, and Jim's breath caught, and his train of thought flew out the window. He had never seen Spock smile before.

"The honor would be mine, Jim. I look forward to working with you." Spock's small smile fell all too soon. "I should return to work."

"Wait, Spock."

Spock turned his attention to Jim, waiting for whatever he had to say.

Jim floundered. "Um…if you want…I could fly out to wherever you're at to help you with funeral arrangements. It wouldn't be a big deal."

Spock looked sad for a moment before once again blocking his emotions. "That will not be possible, Jim. The gesture is appreciated."

"Oh," the human deflated. "Maybe you can take some time off and visit me?"

Spock tensed. "Perhaps, one day it will be possible, but not now."

"It's fine. I was just asking. No big deal. I mean, it would be weird meeting people on the internet in real life. We've only known each other for a few months, and you want to take it slow, that's understandable. And I was just offering t-"

"Jim," Spock interrupted gently, making Jim stop mid sentence. "You are beginning to ramble."

The swordsman blushed. "Sorry."

"I find it oddly calming."

Jim smiled. "Glad I was of assistance."

A corner of Spock's lips twitched before he logged out, leaving Jim to watch the sunset.

The sun was beautiful as it sank behind the horizon, turning the clouds and sky various shades of pink, purple, and orange. It should have felt calming but…

"I'm in deep shit."

* * *

"Bones!" Jim yelled, stumbling through the door later that night.

"What is it now Jim and…why do you smell like you decided to swim inside a bottle of whiskey?"

He stumbled a few more times over his own feet, draping himself over his best friend. "I think I'm in real deep," the words came out heavily slurred and jumbled.

"Take it easy and sit down before you kill yourself. Does it look like I can hold you up?" The older man grumbled, guiding him to a sofa.

"Yeah, kind of. There are two of you," he giggled. He managed to fall onto the couch, somewhat dragging the doctor with him.

McCoy pried Jim's arms off him. "God damned octopus is what you are. Now tell me what happened."

"I think I like Spock," he sighed dramatically.

"Is that it? I figured that out like a month or two ago even if I tried to deny it afterwards."

"I can't like him. I'm straight! I never liked men. Never even looked at them. Then he had the nerve to come waltzing into my life with that adorable bowl cut and beautiful eyes and charm his way into my every waking thought." Jim flopped back into the couch.

McCoy blanched. "We are talking about the same Spock who gave you a two hour lecture on why you should use proper standard instead of colloquial right?"

"Yeah," Jim sighed. "He's hot when he gets all teachy. He should be a professor. I had a dream of him teaching a class." A pervy grin inched its way onto his face. "He took me on his desk when I kept flirting with Janice during his lecture in a jealous rage."

"Too much information, Jim."

"See what I mean! I thought it was because I didn't have sex for a while, so I went out to pick up…uh I can't even remember her name, but the moment any woman touches me, it feels wrong and every night I dream of him. What do I do Bones?" The last part came out as a whine.

Bones shook his head, muttering under his breath about babysitting. "So what if he's a guy. This isn't the 21st century. Secondly, keep your sex dreams to yourself. I ain't your god damned diary. Thirdly, tell him how you feel for god sakes. The worse he can do is turn you down, and if that happens, you just keep going."

"Hmmm, I guess," he drawled, closing his eyes. A yawn escaped him.

"Sleep it off. We'll sort this all out in the morning."

"Sure thing," he yawned again, beginning to drift. "It's just, sometimes I think I feel him and feel the urge to be with him. Isn't that weird?"

"It's called love, kid. You'll get used to it."

"Hope so. He's t'hy'la," he whispered before falling asleep.

* * *

"I grieve with thee, Spock."

Spock gave a ta'al in return. "Professor Sorik. I had not anticipated your visit."

"Because I had not announced that I would be seeking an audience with you." The elder Vulcan said, taking a seat. "Sarek has arranged her funeral?"

"Affirmative. As we will not be able to retrieve her body, we will hold the ceremony tonight without it."

"I see," he said, setting his PADD on the table.

Spock eyed the device and subconsciously straightened."You wished to speak to me about the project."

"Perceptive. Indeed, I wished to converse with you. It has been brought to my attention that you have spent excessive time in the simulation, creating and encouraging personal relations with the case study. In addition, your work has lost efficiency due to psychic and physical exhaustion, progressing to emotional decisions that have lead to you missing work. While the Tiberius side program has supplied interesting data and results, I do not believe it will benefit you to continue associating with him."

Spock felt his headache sharpen painfully at the man's words, almost crippling him. "I will cease the side project."

"Very well. I will inform─"

"But I will not cease association. Tiberius is indeed more than a case study. He is an acquaintance and a colleague with invaluable knowledge."

"Spock, it is not logical to─"Sorik's words seemed muted and all Spock could hear was his pounding head ache. It felt like his head was ready to rip apart at the seams. "Spock?"

The last thing Spock remembered was the professor running to his side as he fell.

* * *

Spock's first sight he was greeted with was his father leaning over him, his fingers pressed against his psi points. Their dark eyes met, and Sarek pulled his hands away, straightening his posture. "You have regained consciousness."

"Father?" Spock took in his surroundings, noting he was lying down in a healer's hut on a mat.

"Healer Serek has already examined you. He informed me that as soon as you rebuild your shields properly, you may return home. He also advises that you do not shield more than what is necessary. You have caused yourself much exhaustion and have strained your telepathy with overuse."

"Is this the reason I fell unconscious?" Spock inquired sitting up. Something was different. Where there once was a bond with T'Pring, there was something else residing in its place.

"You suffered from your pre-marital bond with T'Pring being terminated unnaturally and without the assistance of a healer." Sarek watched his son intently.

Spock shook his head before he could stop the human gesture. "It is not possible. I feel a bond there. A strong one at that."

"It is the bond that caused your previous bond to dissolve. It seems that both bonds were present simultaneously, causing your frequent headaches. As you were blocking such a new bond, you were starving the physical and mental contact needed for it to mature properly, increasing the intensity of the pain whenever you were not with your bondmate." Sarek kept staring as if waiting for Spock to say something.

"If such a new bond was starved, then it would have dissipated within days," Spock replied.

Sarek's eyebrow twitched. "Meditation will be beneficial for you, my son. I have supplied the base of your shielding to keep your emotions in check while you take the time to rebuild them. You can analyze the new bond yourself and discover why the new bond created in the first place and was able to break a bond that had a better foundation and presence, and who the bond is to. The healer also recommends to either stabilize the new bond or to be rid of it as soon as possible."

"Why has this new bond come forward now?"

Sarek hesitated in answering, sadness flickering across his eyes. "The loss of your bond to your mother was likely the trigger. A steadying influence of a bondmate can fill the void and soothe the pain of loss."

Spock frowned. "The bond with T'Pring should have fulfilled that function."

"Your bond with T'Pring has always been weak. Steady, but weak. The bond you have…it was the better choice and the logical one."

"I do not understand."

"See the bond for yourself," Sarek said gently. "You will understand then."

Spock watched his father leave the hut. He looked tired. It was not unusual for bondmates to follow their lover in death. The statistics were one out of a hundred. The higher their compatibility, the higher the chance. He never knew how compatible his mother and father were, but he hoped his father would not follow that path.

Guilt settled into his stomach as he realized that Sarek must have been very concerned when he heard that he had collapsed. He should have taken better care of himself. Perhaps it was time to stop playing the game.

The healer had left incense burning. It was a special incense that helped induce meditation to those who had a shattered or fractured mind and could not obtain the state on their own.

Taking a seat on the meditation alcove provided, he closed his eyes and fell easily into the first layer of meditation, deconstructing the temporary shields his father had created for him to construct his own. He started with shielding his mind from the outside to keep his own thoughts from leaking out and from stray thoughts from coming in. As his father suggested, he did not attempt to create more shielding than the basics. The task was long and time consuming, proving how far he had pushed himself over the past months.

Once the shielding was done, he turned his attention to the state of his body, cataloguing his fatigue, stresses, and any abnormal bodily functions. He required rest and some sustenance, but overall he did not seem too injured. Finally, he turned his attention to the portion of his mind that held bonds.

He hesitantly reached out to the place that once held his bond with T'Pring. He had once associated the place with strained tolerance. It was often cold and uninviting, showing T'Pring's reluctance to allow Spock any access to her mind. When he was a child he often told himself it could have been worse. It could have been disdain he had felt from her or hate. The one time he had reached out towards the bond, it was only to find that she did not want the bond. And once they were teenagers, her feelings for another would trickle through to him, and he felt rejection. He wasn't good enough to keep the attention of the only Vulcan female who did not hate him.

Instead of the cold he had grown accustomed to over the years, there was warmth. A warmth that was inviting to his touch and enveloped his entire being, erasing his tension and easing his sorrow and recent loss. Spock pulled back, startled at its intensity. With uncertainty, he reached for it again.

He was prepared this time and not so easily overwhelmed, giving him the opportunity to examine it. The bond was indeed starved, damaged in several places, causing his physical discomfort and emotional influence from one another. If it continued on its present course, it could become irreparable and a proper marital bond would be impossible to obtain. The bond however was rooted deep into his psyche and seemed to pulse at his mental touch, reaching out to him as if desperate for his attention.

Despite its poor state, the bond was beautiful. It radiated security and love. A feeling of home. He followed the bond, searching for whoever was on the other side eager to find out who was to be his mate.

The feeling of the other mind was weak; Spock could feel the distance between them, and yet it was loud and unguarded, a trait of a mostly psynull species. While he could not feel the specifics of any thoughts or feelings due to the distance and struggling bond, he could still recognize the vibrant and passionate mind on the other end despite only feeling it only briefly twice before.

Withdrawing from his mediation, Spock sat in contemplative silence. Jim was to be his bondmate. Jim was t'hy'la.

* * *

Jim groaned as he opened his eyes. He had been running on the indoor track with McCoy when he suddenly collapsed, his head screaming in pain. Now he was laying in a biobed in medbay glaring at the bright lights, threatening to blind him.

"Welcome back to the living. You've been out for a good portion of the afternoon."

The only response Dr. McCoy received was another groan. "Your head still hurting?"

"A bit." Testing his limits, Jim carefully sat up. "Have any idea what happened?"

"Took some scans. I found a bit more brain activity than usual in the portions of your brain we associate with psychic activity that weren't there before, but nothing serious. Other than that, there is nothing wrong with you." It must have just been Jim, but he could have sworn the country doctor was upset with that fact.

"So…can I go?"

The doctor stared him down with a scowl as if implying that Jim put himself into sickbay just to annoy him somehow. "Only if you take it easy."

Jim fidgeted with the blanket, nodding eagerly. With his friend's go ahead, he jumped out of bed. He felt antsy like he had to be someplace.

"Hey Jim, did you want to talk about you know what?"

Jim shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the door. "I know what about what?"

"You know what I'm talking about," the older man snapped. He seemed more embarrassed about the subject the Jim. "The whole thing about liking Spock?"

Jim stood still long enough to blush. "I'll just wing it like I always do. My instincts never steered me wrong before."

"Except every bar fight and any other illegal stuff you did when you were in Iowa."

Jim shrugged.

"You alright, Jim? You're acting like someone dumped a bucket full of sand in your shorts."

"I'm fine," Jim said probably too quickly. "Look, I got to go. See you at home." He didn't wait for a reply. Something was pulling him to the game. It was strange in and of itself. He knew Spock would not be on until later that night, but he wanted to see Spock. Needed to see him. He could hear Bones' monologue in his head about how unhealthy this all was, yet he found he could not resist.

He went home and logged in immediately, not bothering to remove his shoes or get out of his work clothes.

Spock was waiting for him, sitting at the dining room table, staring up at him in surprise. "Fascinating."

"Hey, weren't expecting to see you here." Now that the object of his thoughts was only a few feet in front of him, the pull had disappeared and embarrassment came full force.

"I did not expect you would react if I called you through the bond," Spock whispered so quietly, Jim was sure he had misheard him.

"I had wished to spend my day with you. I have found your company helps given the current situation," Spock averted his eyes as if waiting for Jim to reject him. "I have come to understand that humans tend to take walks along the beach, go to dinner, and speak of one another's personal lives and goals in order to get to know one another."

The human bit his lips. It sounded like a date, but if he thought about it, those things had been what they were doing for the past few months. "Sounds like fun. Just give me a minute to feed I-Chaya and grab Istaya."

Spock nodded, watching the swordsman go upstairs.

Jim entered his room, holding out his arm for Istaya to perch on. The small baby dragon climbed onto his hand and quickly scurried up his arm to sit on his shoulder. It cooed softly and rubbed against Jim's cheek. If Istaya wasn't a baby, he'd leave him home, but the small creature needed a lot of attention.

After giving his sehlat his meal, he browsed through his wardrobe. He decided on the Surakian armor and black leather pants. He left the gloves off this time. While he was sure he was attracted to Spock, he had doubts about the attraction being returned. If this wasn't a date, he had the excuse that the armor was the most powerful in his inventory and thus had a reason to wear it. If it was, then it was definitely the sexiest thing he owned. Putting one of his smaller swords onto his hip, he went back downstairs.

Spock had changed into his elven king outfit (at least that's what Jim called it), and surprisingly, also did not have his gloves equipped. "Shall we consume nourishment first or shall we walk along the coastline."

"The sun should be setting in Risa right? I heard it's a sight to see."

Spock nodded. "It is indeed aesthetically pleasing to most."

"Then let's go there. We can eat on the beach while we're at it, maybe even spar."

"I am amendable to the idea."

The trip to Risa was quick. Though neither had yet to be in the region, Jim convinced Spock to cheat a little and just have them teleport there by overriding the system. Spock put up little fight, giving in only after the second argument.

The beach was gorgeous. The water was a clear purple, the sand pure white and warm, and the rolling hills and flowers behind them was a sight that took one's breath away.

Spock set up their dinner, producing a blanket and a variety of food from his inventory.

Jim sat on the blanket watching him work. It was proficient like everything Spock did, making it seem more like an art or science experiment than just going through the motions.

Spock eventually joined him once he finished. As he sat down, his hand brushed against Jim's.

His breath hitched. Spock had never made contact with him like that before. All too quickly, the touch was gone. It had to have been a mistake. Spock never made contact with anyone unless it was necessary, granted he had never seen Spock make a mistake before, but it was too weird for Spock to suddenly want to touch him.

"How are you and your dad doing?" Jim asked, desperate to fill the silence.

"It is a trying time for my father. He cannot stop his delicate duties simply because of my mother's death, and it is difficult for him though he does not show it." Spock picked up his tea.

Jim tried to imagine the stoic Sarek he met grieving. It was not as hard as he had thought it'd be. The man's eyes had softened when he had seen his wife, and Spock had told him that Sarek had loved Amanda enough to go against tradition. He wondered if Sarek blamed himself for her death for letting her return on a shuttle by herself. Wionna had blamed herself for George's death for several years.

"What does your dad do?"

"He is a diplomat. The best among my people and very skilled at his work." Jim sensed a bit of pride coming from Spock. And there was no hesitation from Spock this time answering his question.

"Any siblings?"

Spock tilted his head a bit, a sign he was thinking. "One. A half brother from my father's previous marriage before she died. He is significantly older than I, and I have only seen him four times in my lifetime. He would not conform to tradition, so he out casted himself. He is very fond of me however."

"What's his name?"

"Sybok," Spock answered.

Jim bit his lip, picking up some well seasoned mutton. Tearing off a small piece, he fed it to his dragon. "Why are you being so open today?"

Spock considered his answer carefully. "I found I want to know James more than I want to know about Tiberius. When we meet in real life, it is that persona who I will be engaging with, and I wish for you to know me in return."

Jim fought down a blush and focused his attention on his food, devouring it in what was most likely not the most appealing manner.

"Jim, you are not romantically involved? I do not believe any partner you choose would be happy with the amount of time you spend away from him or her."

The seemingly random question shocked Jim enough to start choking on his food, causing small bits to come flying from his mouth as he coughed. Not one of his finest moments.

"Are you alright, Jim?" Spock asked clearly concerned.

"Yeah, just threw me for a second." He coughed a few more times. "No, I'm not romantically involved."

"I do not understand. From my research you would be a desirable mate for someone. Certainly there are interests."

Spock's innocent questions had Jim full out blushing now. "It's not that no one's interested. It's just I'm more of a playboy, you know?"

"I do not know." Spock was staring at him intently, making Jim squirm under the attention.

"I've been the type of guy who never stays with one girl for too long and never been serious about any of it. I just wasn't interested in trying a real steady relationship," Jim muttered, tying to find some other large object to stuff in his mouth that wasn't his foot.

"You wish to try a committed relationship now?" Leave it to Spock to pick up subtext when he least expected him to.

"If it's with the right person," he replied, setting Istaya down next to the meat for easier access.

Spock never took his eyes off Jim.

"Soooo," Jim drawled out, jumping to his feet. "You know some fighting moves don't you? The move you pulled during the tournament was definitely not a move incorporated into the hunter classes fighting moves."

"Indeed. I was trained in a martial art created by my people before we turned to complete logic. Every child is trained in the art as a form of mental and physical discipline." Spock rose as well.

"It's funny you say that. They've been saying that about martial arts for years. Truthfully, I think it lacks on the "mental" discipline part."

"This art is much different than your Earth martial arts. It requires exact muscle control, using power, strength, speed, and agility to the fullest extent." Spock walked into the sand.

"Isn't power and strength the same thing?"Jim followed.

"No. Assume I am three times stronger than you." Jim snorted, and Spock ignored him. "In this case, I can easily overpower you in a test of strength and easily bring you harm as a result. Power is ─" Spock knocked Jim's feet completely out from under him so they were no longer touching the ground, then while he was hovering in the air before gravity took over, Spock used his right hand to push against Jim's chest to force him down to the ground. While Spock hadn't used much strength behind either move, the power behind it subdued him without causing him too much pain or injury.

"If I had used strength, you would have made contact with the ground with a significant amount of force and possibly have caused injury."

Jim looked up at him from the ground, grinning like a maniac. Scrambling back to his feet he declared, "You're going to teach me that."

"I am not certain your physiology will allow you to fully grasp the concepts of V'asumi." Spock stated taking a step back to give Jim his personal space.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the human frowned.

"I will however attempt to teach you if you would like," Spock said, ignoring his question. "I will go through the first series of motions beginners must learn. It strengthens mental discipline. Please watch vigilantly."

Spock stepped farther out onto the beach, rooting his feet into the sand. His movements were very similar to Tai Chi. They were slow and exaggerated, but so much more graceful than any human could possibly move and so much more precise.

There were 15 different moves and positions Spock demonstrated, and truthfully, Jim lost focused on the moves themselves and focused more on how Spock's body moved, the contracting and relaxing of his muscles, the way his body loosened as he went through the fundementals, and the way he would part his lips to take a slow and steady breath between them.

Jim had become so lost in his observations that he had not noticed when Spock stopped.

"It is your turn Jim."

Spock's voice was lower, and it brought the human out of his thoughts. "Right," he said, hurrying to take the first stance.

Spock assessed him, telling him to bend his legs more or to straighten his back a smidge. When the swordsman attempted to shift into the next shift, Spock told him to go back and do it again. After the third failed attempt, Spock moved behind Jim, sculpting his body to his and molded him into the correct stance. "You must focus. Your movements are too sharp. They must be controlled and smooth." Spock's mouth was right next to Jim's ear, his breath caressing his cheek as he spoke.

He guided Jim's body to the next position, moving fluidly and as one together. Once Jim settled into the next position, Spock trailed his fingers along the back of Jim's. The human shuddered at the touch, and Spock's fingers traveled to his palm, brushing the sensitive skin. Both men shuddered this time. Jim meant to question all this. He tilted his head to ask, but the action made their lips make contact, and any thoughts left him as he pressed them together.

The kiss started off completely innocent. Jim was not sure if Spock really wanted it or was just humoring him, so he kept it simple, giving him a chance to back out.

Spock surprisingly was the one to take it farther, pulling him closer and nipping Jim's bottom lip. Any reservations left quickly dissolved, and Jim quickly opened his mouth to allow Spock access.

The Vulcan faltered a bit as if unsure what to do until Jim's tongue flicked at Spock's lips, and Spock returned the favor by catching the human's tongue in his mouth until he let it go and let his own tongue explore. The kiss was clumsy and messy, but still passionate as Spock grew bolder and allowed his hands to travel down Jim's back and arms, feeling every scar beneath his sensitive finger tips, memorizing every one the same way he planned to memorize Jim's mouth.

Jim was the first to pull away, panting and flushed. The awkward angle had made it a bit uncomfortable for him. He looked into Spock's eyes, pupils blown wide with lust for him. It was in this time he realized how limiting the game was. He could not take in Spock's real scent or taste and touch him for real, only what the game was programmed to give him.

"So does this mean we're together?" he asked, dreading that Spock had done it in the heat of the moment.

"Affirmative. I will have no one else but you, Jim." Spock looked completely unashamed at his declaration while Jim was having trouble accepting such devotion, blushing furiously.

"A little early to be making declarations of love isn't it?"

"Tonight was a "date" was it not? Has it been any different from our normal activities?"

Didn't Jim have this exact thought earlier? No, it wasn't different if he took away the all too short make out session. God, had they been dating the past two month without him realizing it? If being in Spock's arms didn't feel so right, he might have been a bit more worried.

"I take it you haven't made out with your bitch of a fiancée for a while. You're a bit rusty."

"She is no longer my fiancée. We have officially ended the engagement earlier today. As for "making out", I have never engaged in the activity with her or any others."

It took Jim a while to process the information, and Spock watched him with interest. It appeared that as smart as Jim was, if something was outside what he considered normal, it took a while to assimilate. He was more curious than ever to see how the human's thought process worked and what Jim considered to be outside of normal. A lot of those anomalies seemed to coincide with him. "Wait, back up. You've never kissed before?"

"Affirmative. My culture does not take such activities lightly. It is done only in the privacy of one's home and with his or her spouse or intended."

"So, you're kind of being a rebel right now." Spock said nothing to deny or confirm, making Jim laugh. "So I'm your first?"

Spock nodded, blushing lightly. "Was it displeasing?"

"Nah, you're a natural if that was your first time. I look forward to see how good you'll be in the future," he smirked. "And I get to see every step of the way."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. He agreed with the idea full heartedly. Closing his eyes, he could see the bond, growing stronger from the mental contact, drinking in every mental touch and caress. The lack of physical forms was making the process much slower than it should be, but there was not much he could do.

Their minds being so close like this from their touch through the game, Spock could feel Jim's mind reach out to him as his reached out in return. There was no more constant pain, only the ache to hold his t'hy'la in his arms for real. Could they make this work? There was no guarantee that Jim would want this bond or accept him when he found out he was not human, or if Vulcan will even allow contact with the humans. There were many variables, many that would make the chances of this working slim, and his pon farr was supposed to be about five years away. If Vulcan did decide to associate with the new race, would everything be ready for them to meet?

"What's on your mind?" Jim asked, gently.

"I was wondering how successful we will be in this endeavor. There is much I need to inform you of Jim. One is the reason why we cannot meet in person at this time. I wish to tell you, but I cannot."

Jim considered what to do, and finally he sighed. "My name is James Tiberius Kirk. I am a cadet at Starfleet Academy set to graduate this year. I'm set for a promotion as soon as I finish."

Spock looked confused, loosening his grip around Jim's waist so Jim could turn to face him.

"If you can't tell me everything Spock, I get it. You've been as honest and open as you can be since we met. You even gave me your full name and a video of your real self," he smirked at that. "I think it's about time I returned the favor."

"Jim…"

"I trust you Spock. Yeah, you hurt me a while back, but I'm told that shit happens, and we got to get over it, and I have. Eventually, I got to give you a reason to trust me back."

Spock's eyes warmed at him. Leaning forward, he left a soft kiss on Jim's lips. "I already trust you t'hy'la."

The elf pulled away and released Jim, then got to work cleaning whatever Istaya had not eaten, which ended up being very little. Jim helped by dumping a bottle of cold water on Spock, making the Vulcan chase him down the beach before getting pinned down playfully and coercing another make out session. Eventually, they both had to part, Spock to attend a lunch with his father, and Jim had to make dinner.

Before they parted, Spock held out two fingers. Jim recognized the gesture and returned it with his own two fingers. A pleasant buzz ran between them. "Goodnight, Jim."

"Goodnight, Spock."

* * *

"So I take it, the hobgoblin returned your feelings," McCoy asked, drinking from his glass of whiskey.

Jim nodded, fixing his uniform to inspection quality. One of the admirals wished to see him. "Yeah, it was…nice."

Bones looked up at the word nice, about to go into a tirade of how it could only be nice when he saw Jim's serene expression at the memory. Ah, he meant it in a good way. "Finally being an adult huh."

"Can it Bones, we don't even know if it will go past whatever it is we got going right now," he pulled down the top of his uniform. It was always so stuffy and uncomfortable.

The elder man snorted into his glass. "I give it a few more months before someone pops the question."

Jim glared at the man through the mirror. "Not funny."

"What? Commitment issues?" he laughed.

"No, that's you. I just don't want to get my hopes up that's all." Jim fiddled with his collar one last time.

Bones sighed, setting his glass down. "I don't have the slightest clue why I always forget how much you like this guy."

"It's surreal to me too." Jim looked at himself in the mirror one last time before nodding. "Alright, I'm off. See you later."

"Hey Jim before you go," Jim stopped to look over at his best friend. His joking demeanor was gone and his face was a hundred percent serious. "Keep on your toes. I don't like that an admiral is asking you for a private meeting."

"Relax, Bones. I'm a captain now. It's probably sensitive material or something."

He did not look convinced neither did he press the issue.

* * *

Jim found himself sitting in Admiral Marcus' office. It was clean and devoid of clutter unlike Pike's office. The admiral was reading over a file on his desk when he had come in and seated himself.

"Welcome, son. How are you enjoying your promotion?" Marcus finally looked up from whatever he was reading to greet him.

"Not much has changed yet, sir. Still preparing for my service aboard the Farragaut."

"That's good. Very good." Marcus stood up from his desk and turned his back to Jim to face the window. "I always liked you Kirk. You're young and ambitious, and smart to boot. It's one of the reasons we allowed you to join the candidate program. Pike was eager to get some new blood into the ranks who could set Starfleet on its course for the future. That and your father was a great soldier. Obviously he passed some of those traits down to you."

Jim tensed, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Unfortunately, you are young. Being promoted to captain will have its challenges since you were the only candidate to not have been an officer previously before applying."

"Are you offering to be my mentor, sir?" Kirk asked, eying the man as he walked around the room.

"Not at all, son. You may be inexperienced, but I think it's a good thing. I nominated you for the position which Pike supported."

Jim still felt ill at ease. "Why did you nominate me?"

"For many reasons really. The first is that you have a lot of potential to do great things. As I said, you're smart, you can think outside the box. The second reason is that I saw the Nero event footage."

"You play _ShiKahr_? " Jim felt an increasing urge to squirm.

"No, my daughter does. She was part of the event, so I watched the feed to understand her interest in the game. I picked you out right away. You have the type of personality that stands out." He chuckled.

"You're a leader, Kirk. You pulled together your crew before it divided and tore itself apart, and lead them and several other groups into the charge, directing them while you fought on the front lines. It was quite impressive. You make a brilliant strategist."

"Thank you, sir."

"You made a name for yourself in _ShiKahr_ as the savior of Sol, and you had only been playing for a few weeks. Charisma like yours can be used to move and encourage people."

"I see. If you don't mind, sir, may we get to the point," he said as politely as he could manage.

Marcus let out a hearty laugh. "That's why I like you. Straight to the point." He picked up the PADD he had been reading and gave it to Jim to look over. "I also picked you because you seemed to be close to the creator of the game." The PADD showed several pictures of him and Spock together on quests.

"What does that have to do with anything?" The feel of unease was almost consuming now.

"We have reasons to believe that the technology for the game and the creators of it are not human."

Jim laughed, waiting for the admiral to join him, but he did not. "You're kidding."

Marcus leaned over Jim's shoulder and changed the file to a different set of pictures and captions. Most of the pictures were of devices he did not recognize. "These devices were found cleaning out Amanda Grayson's apartment. Upon further investigation, it appears that most of the materials they were comprised of were not from Earth. Upon taking biological samples from her, on the surface she has mostly a human physiology, but the cells appears have to been exposed to chemicals, atmosphere, and bacteria not common on earth or even the moon or Mars colonies. Our scientists believe she was only present on Earth for the past two years. The same time as when she anonymously began introducing the Dreamer Technology.

"Upon further research into the background for the device, there was no record of its testing or place of manufacturer until it was approved that it was deemed safe. All test samples and data provided to receive approval was also forged." Marcus paused to allow Jim to swallow this as he read over the content himself.

"Finally, this was on her personal PADD. It was heavily encrypted, but Cadet Chekov just managed to access the information."

There were several video files and pictures. Jim selected the first video file and opened it.

A picture of Spock appeared on the screen with his traditional bowl cut hair and warm brown eyes. His appearance was slightly different than the video Jim had received. He had a slight green tone to his skin that was mostly unnoticeable; his eyebrows were upswept, and his ears were pointed. He looked exactly like he did in the game, even the way he looked into the screen with fondness.

" _Tonk'peh, Ko-mekh. Du ek'manak lasha."_ The entire conversation was held in the foreign language. Spock was relaxed as he spoke to Amanda, and he looked healthy unlike in his message if not a bit sad.

There were a few video files of Sarek who also had the ears and eyebrows and with the same stern demeanor as when Jim met him, and one file of a group of older elf people around a large semicircular table addressing her.

The photos were of mostly of red landscapes and buildings similar to the Fire Plains and the city of ShiKahr. There was one photo of Amanda sitting on the steps of a large silver building, dressed in various browns including her head scarf, looking up and smiling at Spock, who wore an ugly, hand knitted, grey sweater, raising an eyebrow at her. The picture was taken afar and there were other creatures that looked just like Spock with pointed ears and eyebrows with stoic faces. All who seemed to steer clear of the two at the center, making it seem like a more private moment despite the public setting.

Slowly, it was all sinking in. Why Spock kept referring to him as human, and what he meant about his research…and why Spock said it would not be possible for them to meet. What was Spock researching exactly?

"I am curious as to why this alien chose to get close to you. Since Ms. Grayson was in Starfleet, we have reason to think he knew you were a candidate. Ms. Grayson definitely knew since she came to your defense at the hearing."

"Are you suggesting I'm in league with them?" Jim said, voice cold.

"Not at all. We know you had no idea from your personal messages." Jim had to bite his tongue before he said anything he regretted. "But they are interested in you. You can get closer to this alien and find out what they want."

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Jim's voice remained steady though he was panicking inside.

"I want you to lure him here alone so we may investigate this further." Marcus returned to his desk, folding his hands.

"Investigate what? All they've done is given us a really cool and popular game."

Marcus' gray eyes darkened, and his face aged into one of a veteran. "No, they're studying us. You know it too, and they are too chicken to come face us themselves. They know all about us, but we know nothing of them. Believe it or not, this is another kind of war. Whoever has the most information has the advantage, and they are winning by light years. They're up to something, and I think it has something to do with that technology."

Jim looked down at the photo of Spock. Had any of it been real? Did Spock even actually like him?

"On top of that, we learned that they might be telepathic."

Jim looked up at that. "What do you mean?"

"I got from a reliable source that they are telepathic. Think about it Kirk. That alien could have been rummaging around your head influencing your thoughts to do his bidding. Or others for that fact. That seemingly harmless little device everyone is so crazy about stimulates and uses parts of the brain. It wouldn't be too farfetched for it to implant suggestions or steal thoughts or memories."

No it wasn't farfetched. Did he even really love Spock? "Is that why you nominated me? Because I was close to Spock and could be used to lure him here?"

Marcus laughed, leaning back in his chair. "A major reason, but I meant what I said. You're brilliant, and we need some young blood. You're promising."

"And who is this reliable source, if I may ask sir?"

Marcus looked amused. "I thought you would have figured it by now, son."

Jim was not in the mood for games. Not when his first assignment as captain was to lure his new boyfriend into a trap.

Sensing that Kirk was not up for guessing, he smirked and answered his question. "It's Ms. Grayson herself."

* * *

 


	12. Only Double Agents Role Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINISHED ON FANFICTION

Jim tore off the top of his uniform before he even set foot into his apartment. The stiff red piece of cloth draped over his shoulder as he had two large cases of Bone's favorite bourbon in his hands. He would be lying if he said that he was hoping that Bones was home, but karma or lady luck or whatever other force in the universe that controlled the shit in his life didn't seem to give a flying fuck what he wanted. Bones apparently was running late to the clinic and was still home when he came through the front door.

Eying the cases and the silence on Jim's part, McCoy frowned deeply, possibly adding a few wrinkles around the corner of his mouth. "What happened?"

Jim stayed tight lip as he placed the cases on the counter and fished for the hard liquor they kept on top of the cabinets going straight for the 120 proof vodka. Popping the lid off the top with his thumb, he downed two large mouthfuls. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could pass out before the hundred questions from his roommate.

At this point, McCoy left to grab his comm. "Hey Christine, how many patients are on my rotation…do either of them need my attention? ... Get M'Benga to take over. I'll be out today. Call if something happens."

"Bones go to work," Jim reprimanded, glaring at the bottle in his hands as if it was its fault that his whole life turned upside down.

"You came home with two large cases of my favorite bourbon and took out our strongest alcohol and chugged it. Believe it or not kid, you're my responsibility until they pack us onto that tin can and ship us off into the cursed vacuum. Now tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting like and impatient father.

Jim took another sip from the bottle very slowly and with his eyes locked onto the doctor. "It's your winnings from the bet," he finally said.

"What bet?"

Jim just snorted before turning to see if they had anything stronger. He wasn't getting drunk nearly fast enough.

"Seriously, Jim, what the fuck happened with that admiral." McCoy pulled the bottle away from him. Funny, it was usually the other way around.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to say anything. It's classified." He snatched the bottle back.

"Then it's a good thing I practice doctor patient confidentiality."

At the doctor's, stern stance, Jim knew he wasn't going anywhere, much less to work, unless there was an emergency, until he got answers. Sometimes he hated Starfleet for assigning Bones, who was practically his personal psychologist.

"Fine, but nothing leaves this room." Jim moved to sit on the counter, ignoring the annoyed look the doctor shot at him.

"Promise. Now tell me what the hell happened."

Jim took a long slow breath. "Remember when I suspected Spock was an AI and you laughed and said why not an alien or something?"

"Yeah," the doctor said slowly. When Jim stared at him pointedly, McCoy said, "You're shitting me."

Jim took another swing from his bottle while his friend helped himself to his brand new stash of bourbon. "This ain't going to be nearly enough," he muttered in a thick southern accent.

"No shit."

McCoy drank from his bottle slower than Jim, calculating his next question. "So let me get this straight. You're boyfriend is an alien. And he created the head gear and game. Therefore, we have alien technology mucking around inside the head of millions of players worldwide."

Jim winced. It was making Marcus sound like he had a right to be so concerned, but Spock wouldn't hurt anyone right? "Yeah…something like that."

"Why do I have a sinking suspicion that that's not all of it?"

Jim swished the contents around in the bottle, watching the clear liquid make a small whirlpool. "They have reasons to believe that this new species is also telepathic."

"Shit. No wonder your brain scans were lit up like a Christmas tree. That good for nothing hobgoblin has been mucking around in there!"

Kirk said nothing, just staring at the bottle.

The silence coming from the young man was too quiet, especially for him. Toning down the theatrics, he placed the bourbon bottle down and asked, "What's wrong Jim? What are you not telling me?"

"You know, I should be mad. I should hate him for deceiving me and be worried that maybe he did mess with my head to make me feel this way, but I don't. I mean, I can understand why he wouldn't tell us. I mean, think about it. It could take a hundred years or more for our stuff to get to wherever he is. What if the first things they saw were movies like War of the Worlds or They Came from Outer Space? Movies that show how scared shitless we are of other cultures and new experiences. Could you blame them for not telling us and waiting to see what we're like before making contact?" Jim ran his hands through his hair roughly, gripping the short strands between his fingers.

"Or he could be making you feel that. Hell, what if he's in your head right now? We don't know much about telepathy or any of that mind mumbo jumbo," McCoy scowled, turning to the fridge to find something for them to eat so they weren't drinking on an empty stomach. "I want to get your brain scans too."

"Bones you don't…" Jim became increasingly frustrated as he tried to organize what exactly he wanted to say. Of course the doubt was there. He didn't want it to be, but wasn't it better for what was to come?

"Don't what Jim?"

"Just…Why does this shit happen to me? The first person I might be in lo─ very serious about and he turns out to be an alien who could or could not be in my head?! What the hell did I do to deserve this shit? And worse yet, I have to pretend I'm okay with this shit!" He jumped off the counter during his rant and was pacing the kitchen.

"You need to calm down, Kid."

"I am calm!"

At that moment, his PADD buzzed, redirecting his frustration from McCoy to the PADD. Angrily, he picked it up, jabbing his finger at the screen. Reading the message, he fell into a hysterical laugh, tossing it to his friend, so he could read it.

McCoy's finger's tightened around the piece of technology.

_Jim, are you currently distressed?_

"He knows," the older man said shakily. "He's in your head."

Jim's laugh died down, his eyes had gone cold and his body slumped, leaning against the counter. He wasn't even looking at his friend anymore. "You know. I think I knew he was. I thought it was my imagination, but sometimes I could swear I could feel him in the back of my head or know foreign words, but don't know what they mean or where I heard them from. Like the word t'hy'la. I've been dreaming of that word for weeks, but I could never find out what it meant. I even tried cross referencing it in every database I could think of. Maybe it's some code word that's supposed to make me his personal slave, and the sword he gave me is some beacon or something."

"So what is Starfleet going to do?"

The question made Jim turn away completely. He took another large gulp before answering, "I'm going to lure Spock to come to Earth alone so they can ask him about his intentions."

"You mean so they can capture him and interrogate him," Bones scoffed.

"He'll be fine," Jim answered automatically.

"You know that means torture. You can't be that stupid, kid."

"Starfleet does not acknowledge, endorse, and encourage acts of torture," Jim repeated the same words Marcus fed him earlier.

"That does not mean they don't do it, and you know it from experience. Jesus Christ , Kid, are you really going to go through with luring him into a trap?"

The bottle of vodka flew past Bone's head and into the wall, smashing and spilling its contents everywhere. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?! IT'S A FUCKING ORDER, BONES! I PLEDGED MY ALLEGIENCE TO THEM THE SAME AS YOU!" He shoved the man in front of him angrily. His PADD buzzed again.

His voice lowered dangerously as he got into his personal space again. "And don't you dare mention fucking Tarsus again. We had a deal." He took a few steps back. "Weren't you the one saying Spock was fucking with my head anyway?"

The doctor came over with the PADD, weary of the man's personal space, and showed him the messages.

_You are not responding. Did something happen?_

_Jim if you are distressed, please respond promptly. At the very least, contact Dr. Horatio if you find me unsuitable to speak to._

_I will contact Dr. Horatio if you refuse to respond._

_Jim, I am worried…_

"A bit excessive to send four messages in the span of four minutes, but he seems like he knows your freaking out."

"Yeah, seems like it. He even used the word worried," Jim sagged heavily onto the floor.

This time McCoy's communicator beeped with a message. "How the hell did he get my number?"

**I'm fine, Spock. How did you know something was up?**

"Spock's good with computers. He probably looked it up," Jim murmured.

_It is difficult to explain further than "I had a feeling". Are you certain you are alright?_

**I will explain tomorrow. I just want to be alone right now.**

_As you wish. Do not hesitate to contact me if you change your decision, no matter the time._

"I'm heading to bed. I'll see you tomorrow." Jim stood up, grabbing another bottle of alcohol.

"Sure thing, kid."

He was grateful that the doctor didn't mention that it was only 2pm, but Jim had no plans to meet or speak to anyone else today. Hell, he felt like curling up into a ball with a tub of ice cream and liquor. He heard Bones cursing about something in the kitchen as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

He dropped himself into his desk chair, staring at the computer. Spock was an alien. It was still sinking in. And he was going to lead that alien to a fucking trap where Marcus would get his hands on him. What type of 21st century author wrote this piece of sci-fi shit. It wasn't even original.

He shouldn't feel as much guilt as he was. Where was the betrayal? The doubt?

Jim pulled up his e-mail account and opened the anonymous email he had received just before the royale. A picture of a red world and sands filled the screen. A le-matya laid beneath a rock alcove in the shade off in the distance and a small child stood by dressed in robes with a spear looking weapon in hand attempting to sneak up on it.

Jim had always wondered who had created the picture. It was so life like. While the game seemed real to his mind, it was the same concept as a dream. A dream felt real while you were having it, but waking up, you knew it for what it was. This picture of ShiKahr seemed so realistic, and he wondered who would have sent him such a thing in the first place.

Now he knew. Spock had sent it to him. The words Spock spoke to his mother in and the writing within ShiKahr was one in the same. The way Spock looked at I-Chaya with fondness and memory. The way Spock refused to refer to himself as human and always used terms like my world and my culture to disassociate himself from Jim. How he looked inside the game and out.

Spock never lied unless you count lying by omission, but even then, Spock seemed like he tried to tell him as much as possible. He felt warm when he was around the man, felt himself opening up and trusting him. He had been happier, and his friends had noticed. He did not believe Spock meant harm. Spock hated the idea of harming another life. It took a month for Spock to become comfortable hunting, finally conceding to Jim's logic that the creatures he was killing were not real. Spock was gentle and very kind. He was even a bit timid and shy around new people.

It didn't matter. He was under orders. He had to do what he was told. He swore his loyalty to Starfleet…and Starfleet was all that was going for him.

Jim stared at the picture again, briefly remembering Spock telling him about how young children were sent into the wilderness on their own. He wondered if the child in the picture was Spock or some other child.

_The only peace I have found is in an artificial world I have created in order to learn of a world outside my own._

Spock's words rang back at him.

Jim cursed turning off the computer. He had to do what he had to do.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Jim's friends yelled loudly, clicking their glasses together inside Spock's home. Spock had given them special crystals to allow them to teleport into the city without having previously been there after suggesting that they celebrate in privacy. Jim had felt bad because Spock had previously wanted to talk to Jim about the design of the memorial he wanted to set up for his mother, but the alien claimed it was of no issue. He wanted to meet Jim's friends.

All his friends were there: Uhura, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov, Bones, and Christine. It was a small group of friends and since meeting Spock, he had opened up a bit more and let them in. Uhura was an elf, with long, narrow, pointed ears, and gold eyes, her dark hair was still long and her skin complexion a bit lighter and the color of milk chocolate. She was very beautiful with the skimpy elf apparel and a bit jealous that she was practically draped over a dwarf Scotty, with red hair and an obscenely long and braided beard. No one that beautiful should be hanging onto something like that. Then again…

Spock was drawing attention to himself in his own elven attire. His was much more regal with the long flowing robes of midnight blue and gold trimming. He wore his silver crown and hairpiece accenting his dark features. He was breath taking. Everything about him screamed importance and royalty. His dark eyes turned to him at his stare, and a small smirk pulled at the alien's lips.

Jim's heart stopped, and he couldn't breathe. He took back what he said about Uhura. He wanted this man to drape himself all over him.

The smirk was reassuring as well. Spock had been very stiff being surrounded by all his friends asking him question after question. He had only relaxed when he managed to start conversing with Scotty about his warp theory. Jim had never seen the engineer look so happy, finally finding someone who was as smart as he was in his field, probably smarter if Spock really was an alien from a culture who had already figured out warp who knows how long ago.

"You know, you kind of look like royalty. Something you're not telling me. Spock?" Jim grinned, sliding into the conversation and cutting Scotty off, ignoring the dwarf's glare.

Spock's eyes looked amused. "My family is very influential. My lineage is the direct descendant from the founder of our society, Surak. We still follow his traditions today."

Jim's eyes went wide. "Hold on one moment. Your father is a diplomat, and your ancestor is the founder of…your royalty?!"

"We do not have a monarchy. We have a council. Though my grandmother is head of the council, it is not an inherited position." Both him and now Scotty were staring at him in shock.

Spock was rich with an influential father and grandmother. That was pretty much royalty in his book.

"That's really interesting." Jim tensed as he felt the presence behind him, hating that voice. The person was female, a pretty petite blonde, with hazel eyes. "What's your father's name," the girl asked full of fake politeness."

"I do not believe we've met," Spock grew tense and for good reason.

"My name is Carol," the woman said and Jim snorted lightly. That man had no shame.

"Miss Carol, my father values his privacy and does not wish for me to disclose his information with those I do not know."

The woman's mouth tightened. "Sorry, I was just curious about you. I didn't know it was a secret."

"It is not a secret," Spock corrected. "I respect my father's wish for privacy."

"Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you." The woman moved away and Jim had lost his smile. Damn Marcus.

"I do not recall you mentioning a Carol among your list of friends Jim."

"She's new," he lied, looking down.

In the corner of his eye, McCoy kept giving him worried looks, and he knew what he was trying to tell him, but it had to be done.

"Spock, I need to talk to you," Jim whispered. Despite the quiet of his voice and the loud commotion around them with the music and dancing, he knew Spock had heard him.

"Of course." Spock led them upstairs to the outdoor balcony. "Are you enjoying the party Jim?"

"Yeah, it looks like everyone is having fun. I've never seen Scotty enjoy himself so much."

Spock nodded his approval. "I am relieved to hear you say that."

"What do you mean?"

Spock wandered to the railing, looking over the city. "You've been upset since yesterday. I am gratified that you are in better spirits." Spock looked back at him and Jim's heart sank. Why did he have to look at him like that? With so much gentleness and fondness.

"Spock…I have to ask you something."

"I will answer any inquiries you have if I am able," Spock said.

Jim looked him square in the eye. "Spock, are you an alien?"

The question obviously threw Spock off his guard, surprise written all over his face. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "I am not certain─"

"Don't lie to me Spock. Tell me the truth, are you not human?"

Spock looked hesitant as he answered, "Affirmative. I am not human."

Jim nodded.

"You are extremely calm about this." Spock sounded uneasy.

"I had since yesterday to think about it." Jim said.

Realization dawned on his face. "It is what has upset you." Spock closed off in a heartbeat, his expression reserved.

"It was definitely a surprise, but it wasn't what upset me. Quests like The Enterprise Incident upset me." Jim noticed Spock grow stiff and felt satisfaction course through him. Good. He knew. "Look Spock, your mom is alive."

"Human humor often escapes me," he said coldly.

"I'm serious Spock. Look, Starfleet knows that your mom wasn't human. They captured her and faked her death. They're keeping her in a holding cell. I want to get her out . . . but I'm going to need your help. I can't do it on my own, and I can't trust anyone to help me. The admiral in charge of everything is paranoid, and I don't know who's working for him and who's not.

"I need you to come to Earth. . . I don't know what else to do, Spock. I'm going against Starfleet. It's the only thing I have going for me, and I can't do this by myself." He was pacing, too anxious to stay still. Was this going to work?

"Jim," Spock grabbed his arm, making his stop and look at him. "We will figure out something," he whispered. "I will come. Just tell me where to meet you."

"San Francisco, California," he sighed. "Just tell me wherever you decide to land or however you guys travel, and I will come meet you to pick you up."

"I will do so." Spock took a step away. "Shall we continue with your promotion party?"

All Jim could do was nod. They both headed back inside, tension thick between them. Both were surprised to see Sarek downstairs standing awkwardly off to the side. Catching sight of them, the older man's brow quirked up at Spock's attire, and Spock became rigid out of embarrassment.

"My son, I was unaware that you had guests." The older Vulcan made his way to them, his gaze flickering to Jim. "Tiberius, we have yet to formally make an introduction. I am Sarek, Spock's father."

Jim noted that like Spock, the man did not offer to shake hands. "Call me Jim. Spock's told me a lot about you." It felt awkward to look at this man and know that he was an alien. For some reason, it was easier to swallow than believing Spock was. Sarek just seemed unreal with his lack of emotion and the demeanor he presented to others. Still, the man had lost his wife and even Jim could see that the news took a toll on the man.

"Likewise, Spock speaks very fondly of you. He has spent 47.45 hours speaking of you over the past 94 days."

Spock looked off to the side, trying to feign interest in Sulu's fencing demonstration.

"That's not too bad I guess," he laughed nervously.

Sarek lifted an eyebrow. "My son no longer resides in my residence, and I speak to him once a week for approximately 3.2 hours. Over a 90 day period, I have only been in my son's presence for 36.74 hours."

It was Jim's turn to blush, turning to look at Spock who thankfully decided to change the subject. "What brings you here, Father?"

The older man stared at Jim for a few seconds longer before addressing Spock. "I have something I wish to discuss with you."

It must have been important for him to come into the game. "Will upstairs be amendable to you?

Sarek inclined his head and followed his son upstairs. He was curious and wanted to follow and listen in, but Scotty managed to drag him off. "What are ye doin' sittin' in the corner of yer special party?" The Scottish man grinned, stroking his beard. "Or did ya want to have a little romantic tryst with yer elf. I can entertain the masses while yer away."

A cocky grin made its way onto his face. "I'm fine Scotty. Why don't we move the party to my place? Get some real scotch and whiskey."

"Now yer talking my language, Cap'n."

Scotty rounded up his friends, making the plans to head over to the apartment and grab food on the way.

Jim looked up the stairs, wondering what those two could possibly be talking about, when a delicate hand slapped his shoulder.

"Good work, son," Carol said smiling.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," his said through thin lips. He was not in the mood to be touched.

"We'll talk in the morning." It wasn't too soon when the "woman" removed her hand from his shoulder. When he took off his helmet, he knew he'd awaken to the smell of antiseptic in the medbay surrounded by doctors and officers. They wanted to make sure Spock didn't manipulate him, or that he didn't try something. Marcus was no fool. He knew that he had been close to Spock. He wouldn't take a chance for Jim to betray him.

Jim couldn't even relax when the petite woman logged out.

"Jim, are you okay?" Uhura asked, frowning. "You've been quiet all night so I have to assume you've suffered another head injury."

Even with the shot at his intelligence, the notion of concern was appreciated. He gave her a lazy grin. "Just because I was shit faced drunk and got a concussion the first time I met you doesn't mean, I do that every night. Just every other night. And it just so happens, it's my night off."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Get a life Kirk."

"Only if you're in it," he teased, making her roll her eyes again. It was ritual to give her a bad pick up line once a day. A ritual he was quite fond of despite the cheesiness of it all. It was how he won her friendship after all once she realized he wasn't being serious about any of it anymore.

He ensured that they all left, before leaving himself. Hopefully, Spock would contact him.

* * *

He paced in front of the San Francisco Bay boardwalk. Granted it was 3 am and most clubbers and junkies had called it a night, and it was early enough for early risers to not be out and about, but there was always a chance to be caught, and he was paranoid. He constantly checked his PADD for a message. It was the only way Spock could communicate with him without Starfleet knowing. Spock had given him a replacement PADD with the computer, and he had yet to register it for his classes, and he had not yet connected his Starfleet information and accounts to it, so they did not know about it. Hopefully, Spock was aware of it too.

Just as Jim was seriously considering just screwing the whole mission, his communicator rang. He cursed, answering it. What was Spock thinking?

"This is the commander of the Romulan warship. You have entered the neutral zone without authorization from the Romulan government. Tiberius, defender of Sol, do you acknowledge that you have indeed violated that treaty amongst the humans and the Romulans."

Jim froze, his mind trying to understand what was going on. Slowly, his mouth turned into a devilish smirk. Two weeks ago, he had discussed what humans had called role playing, where players would mix the virtual world with the real world with phone calls or messages from fictional characters from the game. It was quite popular in ShiKahr, to pretend to be someone completely other than yourself. While Spock had admitted he did not quite understand the logic of pretending, he did understand the concept of acting which lead to the development of the quest called the Enterprise Incident.

The quest was designed by Amanda before she disappeared. The quest starts by getting caught in unfamiliar territory with another in your party. The commander of the army you encounter will take a liking to one of your party members. You then had to lie, cheat, and act your way into acquiring information on their secret weapon, then acquire it.

The commander of the enemy had taken a liking to Spock, leaving Jim to act erratic and unstable, convincing the commander that he was indeed insane, leading to his imprisonment. Spock then flirted with the commander and extracted information while Jim plotted his escape and stole the device while Spock kept her busy. Jim had enjoyed the mission. He hadn't found it annoying at all, besides the fact that he wasn't fond of Spock flirting with her. His comment earlier, made Spock understand. Jim was acting the part, and Spock had gone with it.

Jim had also immediately recognized T'Pring's voice on the other line. Spock must have told her the predicament and enlisted her help. They would not recognize her voice, and Jim was known in the game. It wouldn't be strange for him to engage in RP outside the game. Sure they might look down on him for it, but they couldn't do anything about it.

"I was not aware that I have entered the neutral zone. My trespassing was a mere accident. One of my party has suffered a loss, and I only wished to track her whereabouts," he responded confidently.

There was a moment's pause. No doubt Spock was translating what he had said and was instructing what his ex fiancé what to say next. He had to admit, he was surprised to find the woman could act. She was so cold and impersonal. "I do not believe you. You are known for your ambitions. Tiberius takes what he wants and does not answer to anyone. How do you expect us to trust a lowly human swordsman when your human government has trespassed against us once before?"

"Perhaps it is time for our governments to meet. Surely you have an ambassador who would not mind us 'lowly' humans. You expect to earn our trust when you hide behind your ships and weaponry? There can be no peace if you continue to hide," he sneered for dramatic effect.

"Perhaps, but your sword cannot harm us. You are only one. Shall we wait for you to call your companion? I hear you no longer run alone and have an elven shadow."

"No," he said sternly, looking up into the night sky. He wondered if he could see Spock's planet from Earth. "I am more than capable to take you on if necessary. While my elf is capable in his own right, I do not need his strength to take on the likes of you."

There was silence on the other line for a while, and Jim wondered if they had lost connection. Finally, she spoke again. "You are foolish as are most of your kind, but I must recognize your bravery. I do hope your bravado pulls you through. You are correct that we have an ambassador willing to speak with you, but we have no ability to sway the council to do the same. The neutral zone is wavering; whether it will become a zone of conflict or peace still remains."

"And what do you wish for? If I were to cross into your border today, would you consider me friend or enemy?"

"I think it depends on your actions human. Whether you take your sword and kill I-Chaya, or if you lay down your sword and approach a le-matya with good intentions," the woman calmly said.

Jim frowned. "Romulans cannot be trusted lightly. They have the ability to manipulate their enemies. If I were to set down my sword and openly trust you, what guarantee do I have that you would not cast a spell and turn me? Or have you already cast the spell?"

Jim stopped breathing, awaiting the answer. He had to know if Spock was controlling him. "Whether the spell has been cast or not is irrelevant. Romulans and elves share distant ancestry, yet you align with the elves and trust them. If an elf should cast a spell on you, you would not question, you would trust that the elf has not harmed you. If you can trust elves, perhaps it is time for you to extend that trust to my people as well and trust that any spell that may have been casted is a good one."

"It is hard to trust beings I have not seen. I feel your presence when I turn my back and stays with me well into the night. If I were to leave, would you not continue to watch me? There is no trust on your end," Jim's voice rose, unable to contain his emotions. Why did Spock watch him?

The voice he heard respond to the query was not T'Pring's or even Spock. It was Sarek. He responded in low tones which oddly felt calming to Jim's rising distress as he spoke. "Or perhaps the eyes on you is a version of the trust we extend to you. Or to be specific, our young prince's trust. To form a bond without ever meeting in person, to move another with just words never meeting face to face.

"All that is needed is one man to have a vision to influence a nation. To create such a bond is precious and cherished to our people, and the bond is only formed through opening one's self completely and truly."

"Such bonds are useless unless the other party is aware," Jim said quietly.

"Indeed, but the young prince was not aware either. He is after all, young, and does not know the extent of what he can do. He did not intentionally mean to become so fixated on you, to connect with you. He had not even met you, but you managed to move him. If you are an example of the human race swordsman, then perhaps there is hope for negotiations. Until then, I hope you can help your companion retrieve his lost asset." Sarek paused then added. "And let it be known a bond works both ways. If he can connect with you, then the opposite is also possible."

Did that mean if Spock was aware of what he was up to then he could find out what Spock was up too? It was possible. He had sought out Spock, unable to think of a reason why only to find him upset about something. The knowledge that it happened both ways eased the tightness in his chest. That presence he felt in his mind was less constricting if it was two way.

"Let it be known swordsman," T'Pring was back on and Jim kind of found himself looking at her in a better light than before. "We are giving you our trust that you will not cross into our territory again. A gift has been sent to the ShiKahr palace as sign of a truce. Accept it with good intentions."

"Of course, Commander. Thank you for your understanding." The connection ended. He was disappointed he had not been able to talk to Spock, but he supposed his PADD could have been tapped as well. Since he rarely let his communicator out of his sight, it would be hard to tamper with without him noticing. Even so, Spock had taken precautions and had T'Pring speak instead of him.

While there was a chance that their coded speech could be deciphered, there was information they just didn't have to solve it all. It would be too late for them to do anything by the time they put the pieces together. There was one person Jim was considering trusting, but he couldn't take it past that. He also needed to locate Amanda. He hoped she was okay. Until then, he'd have to get comfy with Marcus and convince him to let him see her.

The thought made his stomach churn. The man made his skin crawl. He had no choice though. Amanda needed him, and he owed her that much.

* * *

Jim walked into Pike's office. It had changed little since he had visited before the older man's promotion. The office was larger with a view of the bay and overlooked the Academy grounds. The man's trinkets and awards littered the shelves and there was a neat stack of PADDs on his desk.

"What can I do for you, son?" For a brief moment, Kirk wondered if all men older than him liked referring to him as son, or it was just that all the older men he kept meeting was from the south.

"Pike, there's something I need to talk to you about."

The admiral laughed, looking at Jim with fondness when he replied, "Girl trouble?"

The laughter didn't stop until the older man took in the young cadet's serious expression. "Sit down and tell me what's on your mind."

Jim did not sit down. He stood in parade rest; head held high, chest puffed out, looking every bit of a captain as he was going to be. "Sir, when you recruited me, you had specifically stated that the direction you wished Starfleet to go for us to make it our mission to explore new worlds, seek out new life forms, and boldly go where no man has gone before. Does your current opinion still coincide with that statement?"

Pike legitimately looked taken back by the detached, military approach Jim was taking, addressing his superior as a cadet or captain should address an admiral. It was a first as the young man rarely ever lowered his head to another.

Recovering from his shock, Pike drew his eyebrows together in concern. "Yes, Captain Kirk, I believe that is the direction Starfleet should go. There's a whole universe out there that we know nothing about, and I believe we should make a good impression on any life forms we meet, not an imposing one."

This was it. Hopefully, it wouldn't be a mistake to trust him. "Sir, Admiral Marcus and I have a reason to believe that an alien race has contacted us. While I believe that their intentions are non hostile and currently assessing the situation on whether to make their presence known, the admiral believes that their intentions are malicious. He has already captured one of them, Lieutenant Commander Grayson. He plans to lure her son, who is also the son of one of their ambassadors and the grandson of one of their high council members, to Earth to _interrogate_ him. He is looking to start a war by doing so."

Pike grew tense during the explanation, his eyes hard and calculating. "I never did like that prick," he murmured under his breath. Louder he said, "You seem pretty confident about these aliens' intentions. What makes you so sure?"

Jim did not falter, answering with complete honesty. "Lieutenant Commander Grayson's son has become a dear friend of mine over a videogame. While I am aware that it is a game and that he could be faking it, he has gained my trust, something that I do not give out easily. I believe he has good intentions, and I do not believe that his mother should be held captive because they wished to study us as we would have done if met with a more primitive culture."

"You're right about that, son. I do have a question though, Captain Kirk. Why is it that only one alien is present on Earth? Or do you believe there are more hiding on Earth somewhere?"

Jim paused, thinking over his conversation with Spock and the pictures he has seen. "I believe that Mrs. Grayson is a different species of alien than the ones she is working with. I believe she married an alien herself and she was the only one human looking enough to pass without surgery or be discovered by our scanners at first glance."

The peak of curiosity was evident on the other's face. "I've met Amanda Grayson. What exactly does the aliens she is working for look like?"

He thought of Spock and a small smile made its way on his face before he dropped it to answer. "They have tipped ears, slanted eyebrows, and they seem to have dark hair and eyes. They also have a light greenish hue to their skin." He thought back to the game. Spock bled green. "I also think they have green blood, but you cannot quote me for fact on that last statement, sir."

A smile twitched its way on Pike's lips. "Green aliens?" He said clearly amused.

"I assure you sir, that the coloring is hardly noticeable. I am sure there is much we do not know about their physiology."

"Right, of course," the admiral waved him off, clearly in thought. "I'll put it in the system that I called you here to talk about your position on my ship. We'll figure something out, Jim."

Tension rolled off the young man's shoulders, and his posture gave into a slight slouch. It was one less thing to worry about. He still had to see Marcus after this. "Thank you, sir."

"No problem, kid. Now let's actually discuss ship business while you're here."

Jim sighed, finally plopping himself down onto the chair in front of the metal desk. "Sure thing, Chris."

* * *

Jim left Chris Pike's office only to go straight to Marcus'. A great weight had lifted from his mind by confiding in Chris. His gamble had paid off, and he was feeling calmer than he had felt since the whole mess began. There was one person who he could rely upon who had a bit of pull even if not as much as he would like, but the man still had connections.

Unfortunately, the meeting had also reminded him that in a few weeks, he would be on a ship and leaving Spock behind.

Entering the office, he forced his face to remain neutral as the admiral smiled at him. "Kirk, the man of the hour. I must say son, telling the truth and twisting it a smidge worked wonderfully. We already received confirmation that he will be here in four days. You're performance was wonderful."

Four days to figure out how to get Amanda out and go over Marcus' head to establish peace before a war broke out or he got court martialed. Maybe Spock's race would be grateful and allow him to live with him if he got charged with treason. Eh, one could hope.

"Thank you, sir. I was quite proud of myself as well. However, I do have a request." It was all or nothing.

"What is it I can do for you, Kirk?" the admiral asked, a smile still plastered to his face.

"If it is possible, I want to talk to Mrs. Grayson myself to get more information out of her. She knows me. I might be able to get more information out of her."

The smile on the admiral's face grew. "I had considered it, but I wasn't sure of your loyalty until last night, though you did see Pike today."

So he was being watched. He wasn't surprised really. Marcus was a paranoid and cautious man. Even so, Jim held up the file he was given while he was in Pike's office. "Information about the Farragut in greater detail. I have to familiarize myself with the ship within two weeks. I am shipping out soon."

"Yes, it's a lot of information to take in, but I'm sure you can do it."

Jim nodded, tucking the file away. "I wish to help out as much as I can before I get deployed. We've already lured her son; we just need to get as much information we can so we are prepared before they arrive. We have limited information of telepathic abilities, and we do not know what to expect."

Marcus laughed. "You really do have a mind of a captain. It's exactly what I was thinking. I do think you can get her talking. She's should be about ready anyway."

The admiral stood and showed him the door. "After you."

Marcus led him to the holding facility below headquarters. Jim had never been to it before. It was rarely used, only when an officer had committed very violent crimes or high acts of treason. There were three checkpoints and two security code/bioscanners needed to get to a simple interrogation room that held a small table and two chairs. At the table sat the gaunt form of Amanda Grayson.


	13. Preparation

Jim took a deep breath, forcing down the bile rising at the back of his throat caused by thinking of which torture techniques could make Amanda look so frail in the course of only a few days. Phantom pains throughout his body ached with each new thought, bringing along a matching graphic image. Abruptly, he stopped his train of thought to focus on hiding his expressions from Marcus. "How much did you get out of her?" he asked.

"Not much. Once she decided to clam up, not another word came out of her. Not even under our more _persuasive_ methods." The annoyance in Marcus' voice was as clear as day, and it pissed Jim off to no end that the man didn't even seem just a little bit remorseful for what he had done.

"Well let's see if I can change that." Jim entered the small interrogation room, smiling just slightly when Amanda looked up at him in surprise. "Hey."

"James." The surprise turned into joy as her eyes lit up over her weary face. "I admit I'm surprised to see you here."

The young man sat opposite of her. "I can say the same for you. I was told you were dead, so was Spock and Sarek."

Her smile turned into a small frown and her eyes filled with sadness. "I would think so, though I do not believe Sarek it now."

Jim shifted. "Why would you think that?"

Amanda eyed him carefully. "You know, when I was brought here to speak to one of the admirals, I was surprised to find out they knew I wasn't human, and I was under the impression that they wanted to make peace." She rubbed her eyes. "But the line of questioning made me suspicious. Why did they need to know if there were signs that someone was touched by someone who was telepathic? Why did they need to know what type of military we had? So I stopped answering their questions and now I'm here."

She folded her hands casually in front of her as if she was the one interrogating and imposing her presence. "What I want to know, cadet, is, are you here to get more information out of me, or do you intend to help me?"

Jim glanced at the one way mirror. "How would you know if I'm telling you the truth if I tell you what I think you want to hear?"

"I believe you are a man of integrity and that you will tell me the truth. If you say you are here to help, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I am aware that whatever I tell you will be overheard, but I'd trust you'd do something about it."

Jim held his breath. He hoped Marcus would think he was lying. "I am here to help you, Amanda. Spock is on his way to Earth as we speak."

"And that dick admiral?"

Jim smirked at that. "I convinced him to stay away. No one is on the other side of the mirror. I told him that we had no idea what the extent of your telepathy might be and you might not talk if you could feel him there. I do want answers Amanda. I don't like being in the dark."

She stared at him for a long time before smiling herself. "I see. It's a relief then." Her body sagged into her chair. "James, I must ask. Do you really trust me and our objectives?"

"Can I trust the arrow Spock has pointed at my back?" He asked. Though it sounded as if he was Jim was saying no, he knew Amanda was aware that he did. Spock may stand behind him and have his arrow aimed towards him, but Jim never worried that the arrow would touch him when it flew.

"Fair enough. Let me enlighten you then. Ask away."

"I want to know why you look so human. I mean if it wasn't for minor differences due to different environments, we wouldn't have known." Jim was curious himself. He had been wondering about it since he found out she was an alien.

Amanda laughed. "There are many theories. In truth, there are many worlds out there that have aliens who look human with minor differences, but almost all intelligent species we have met are at the very least humanoid. There is a theory that an advanced alien species settled on many inhabitable worlds and from them is where the common form came from."

Jim's eyes went wide. "That's not possible. What about evolution?"

"True, that does seem like a problem. Maybe those that settled from another world copulated with the natives?" She laughed again. "I do not know, but there are reasons for folklore and legends. I do know for a fact that there have been alien encounters on Earth. On another planet, there are a group of Greek philosopher's who studied under Plato. They still live due to the interesting side effects the native food of the planet."

"How…" Jim's mind felt blown. Immortality? It was possible on other worlds. What other things lay just beyond their solar system, just beyond their reach waiting to be discovered.

"You have the same look as my son when he discovers something fascinating," she said softly. "I can see why he likes you."

Jim looked away, staring at his hands. He couldn't look flustered. Marcus was watching. "So… you're a telepath?"

The woman shook her head. "No. I am from a separate race. I met Sarek during one of his trips to the embassy on my home planet." Her face brightened at the memory. "I was a teacher giving a field trip of the Vulcan embassy at the time when one of my children ran off and collided into him. Sarek just looked at the boy, and the child was in tears." She laughed joyfully, like a young woman talking about her first crush. "Sarek was so confused and lost. He just stared at the boy like he somehow broke him. After all, Vulcan children are quiet and well behaved unless they are babies. Even then, they rarely cry."

"Vulcan?" Jim asked.

The question seemed to derail her for a moment before she recalled that Jim didn't know. "It is what Sarek is His race. Anyway, I collected the boy, and he told me how the mean man was glaring at him. Sarek looked scandalized and assured me Vulcan's do no such thing as glaring.

"I recognized him right away. He is a very famous diplomat, known for his cut throat logic and high success rate. At that moment though, he looked like a normal man to me." She gave Jim another warm smile. "I read him like an open book the same way you can read Spock even if no one else can."

"Did Sarek get any better with children?" Jim asked.

She shook her head no. "Spock cried more often than a normal Vulcan child, and he struggled with his emotional control and was often angry or sad. He was unsure of how to handle, Spock. His other child, Sybok, had embraced emotion, and Sarek had been very stern and stubborn in making him follow the teachings, causing Sybok to start resenting him, eventually getting himself exiled. I believe Sarek feared he would mess up with Spock as well, and it caused a rift between them." She sighed, lost in her thoughts. "Sarek loves his children very much, but it is hard to show them when you are bound by logical restraints."

Jim looked at his watch, knowing they had gotten way off topic, but couldn't bring himself to interrupt her. He let her have those few moments of blissful memories before she had to go back to her cell or wherever it was they kept her.

"Why do they do that? I mean isn't living in denial worse?"

"There is something you must understand about Vulcans, James. Emotions for them run deeper and stronger than any human. It is hard for them to live as humans do. They did long ago, and it had driven them to the edge of destruction, so they embraced logic to control the urges. They still feel those emotions, but they control it, identify it, analyze it, and diffuse it. It is safer for them."

Jim thought on what to ask next, how to transition into asking about the telepathy. "Does their telepathy have something to do with the stronger emotions thing?"

"I never really thought about a connection truthfully, but I believe it is the reason they are able to get away without actively showing them." She shifted and Jim could see the teacher in her. It was similar to how Spock looked before he gave him lectures. "All of them are connected as a sort of background noise in their mind. If many die at once, they all feel it. Stronger connections between family and friends create bonds like little threads from one mind to another, transmitting a sense of presence and sometimes feelings from one another. Then there are bonds between lovers. It's very intimate, and it is for life. Depending on the compatibility between minds, thoughts can be sent from one to the other. It's…" She faltered. "It's…something you can't even begin to describe. Being a part of someone else and have them be a part of you. You see who they really are. No secrets. No doubts. It is truly beautiful."

"Is that what you have with Sarek?" The way Amanda had spoken about the bond made Jim wonder if that's what he had with Spock, if that was what Sarek had meant by bond.

"Yes. I am his bondmate. Whatever Starfleet gave me, cut any bonds I had, including my parental bond with Spock, but my link with Sarek is still intact, though extremely weakened. I am certain Sarek thought I was dead until recently when I called for him." She winced at the admittance.

"Call?"

"I am psy null. As my link was several damaged, only extremely strong emotions could be transmitted and reach him due to the distance," she said quietly, her hands trembling.

Jim winced as well knowing exactly what those strong emotions would entail given her condition. What would it be like to think your lover was dead only to receive emotions like pain, fear, and helplessness? "You're a brave woman, Amanda. How did you not break under all that?"

Amanda closed her eyes, trying to escape the memories. "I drew on the bond with my husband and his strength and used some Vulcan techniques to protect my mind," she smiled weakly. "Can we change the subject?"

"One last question. How do you know that Sarek did not manipulate your mind into being his wife or something? I mean if he's a telepath…"

"Touch telepath. They have to touch your face in order to enter your mind to that degree. He never did with me until we became bonded and even then…well I'll let you find out the details of that yourself. Point is, you are safe from any mind control or other nonsense Marcus put into your head."

Jim stood. "Well thank you Amanda. I've learned a lot today."

"Jim…would you be opposed if Spock brought up bonding with you?"

The question threw Jim off so much that he couldn't hide his surprise. Casually, he slipped into a smirk. "Sorry, Mrs. Grayson, but I've always been interested in women as flattered as I am." But he didn't deny that he would be opposed.

Amanda nodded understanding. The great thing about being with Sarek or Spock was that they had become really good at reading subtext and body language. "See you soon?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I will."

She smiled. "Live long and prosper, Jim."

Jim paused, thinking back to if he had heard a response. He had once heard Spock say, "Peace and long life."

He exited the room, ignoring Marcus giving him an approving nod. He was definitely bringing that asshole down.

* * *

Spock sat quietly in the high council chamber trying to ignore the attention they had on him as they continued to question him. Sarek had informed them that Amanda was indeed alive but held captive, and that the humans were aware of their existence, thus prompting this meeting on what course of action they should take next. So far, it was not in his favor.

"Looking over notes from your colleagues, Spock, they believe you have developed an obsession with the simulation, logging in long hours, exposing yourself to immense psychic noise of undisciplined minds to the point of illness, neglection of duties, and impaired judgement," T'Pau read off.

Spock internally winced. He should have known that his two days of missing work would back fire on him. Outside, he looked as indifferent as ever.

"As for you Sarek, we believed that you are compromised. Losing your bondmate only to find that she is indeed alive but undergoing torture has skewed your logic as well. This just supports the theory that humans are not ready for first contact and are too volatile and primitive. It is unfortunate Sarek, but we cannot stage a rescue attempt without alerting them to our presence and making the situation worse."

Spock felt his father tense beside him. Still, he looked on with indifference. He had already made up his mind. Nothing was going to change it now.

The chamber doors opened, drawing the attention of every occupant in the room. No one interrupted a council meeting.

Spock was almost surprised when he saw his ex-fiancé walk gracefully into the room like she owned the place. He felt oddly satisfied by her entrance as it caused almost visible confusion and irritation on the elder's faces.

"T'Pring, explain you reasoning for this interruption," Sorik demanded in the most Vulcan way possible.

"Pardon me, high council, but I wished to give my observations in person rather than through a report." T'Pring met Spock's gaze and tilted her head in acknowledgment. "I do wish to let it be known that I am not present as Spock's bondmate. The link was broken, and I am no longer to be his mate. This is fortunate as I did not wish to be his bondmate nor did he wish for it. My observations are purely objective."

"We are aware of your current status, T'Pring." T'Pau said.

The young Vulcan woman continued."Spock is indeed attached to the subject he is studying, and his work is in fact biased, but it is to be expected as his subject also happens to be his t'hy'la."

Spock felt somewhat amused at the disbelieving looks on their faces as well as irritation that she exposed such private information. His grandmother turned to him with those sharp black eyes. "Spock, can you confirm?"

"Affirmative, T'Pau."

She looked at her son. "Sarek?"

"Yes, T'Pau, Spock does indeed have a t'hy'la bond with the human named James Kirk. Healer Selek can confirm this as well." Sarek said.

"High council, I have had the opportunity to engage with this human, Spock's t'hy'la. While I do find him brash and undisciplined, he is a very exceptional human. While I find his thinking chaotic and hard to understand, he has shown to be creative, an unprecedented strategist, and remarkably intuitive. According to Spock's research, the human had deduced Spock was neither human nor program upon their first encounter. If not for Lady Amanda, the human might have discovered our existence sooner on his own.

"While it is unfortunate that Lady Amanda has been captured, it would be illogical to judge the entire Terran race on the actions of one individual. This Admiral Marcus could be the outlier of normal human behavior as much as Kirk could be an outlier.

"Any research Spock has made outside his research of his bondmate, is unbiased. After spending an evening with Kirk, I found my own observations about humans to be flawed. Spock's data has more credibility than my own and has a better foundation and understanding of their reactions and behavior. I place more value on his judgment to engage the Terrans despite the gain that awaits him if you should make contact."

Spock almost smiled at the irony. The woman who had argued and opposed him most was giving her support. "I believe," Spock said, drawing attention to himself and away from T'Pring, "that the largest factor for my mother's captor to behave irrationally is because of fear. Animals have an instinctive aversion to unknown elements that could prove detrimental to their survival. Another species, one who has more knowledge and superior technology, has made themselves known and kept all information to themselves, leaving him in ignorance and left to his own reasoning as to why we would do so. Evidently, his reasoning has led him to assume the worst." The thought of Jim made his features soften. "I have made a similar mistake in assuming the worst outcome because I had not received all the facts. A failing I am not proud of, but the experience allows me to have a foundation of how the human rationally came to the conclusion that we pose a threat to the safety of his planet.

"Jim, James Kirk, has more information than he consciously realizes about our cultures. The simulation I created has traces of Vulcan culture. Shikhar is very much an exact replica of our own Shi'khar. Vulcan script is present throughout, there are le-matyas and other animals native to our planet, and the inhabitants are similar in physical appearance. Jim has also been exposed to T'Pring, my father, and myself.

"From the game alone, he has learned the basics of the Vulcan language, has seen our meditation rituals, and has picked out the cultural difference between myself and his self. While we do share a bond, it is weak from distance and lack of physical and mental contact. He is not aware of it and has no reason to put his trust in me or help my mother. His lack of fear is due to his knowledge of us. He is not ignorant. We should not allow other Terrans be ignorant either. Making first contact could dispel a significant amount fear and prepare them for what they will face when they reach past their own solar system."

His father gave him an approving gaze as he finished the end of his speech, and there was a small rush of pride through him.

The council looked at one another, having a silent conversation with just their eyes. T'Pau gave no indication she knew the other council members decision, her face as blank as a slate. With a strong clear voice she announced, "The decision still stands."

"You would condemn my son to death, knowing his t'hy'la is on Earth," Sarek said evenly. Spock glanced at his father at the corner of his eye.

"It is unfortunate, Sarek, but the bond would have to be broken," another council member answered.

Sarek's eyes turned hard. It was the most emotion Spock had ever seen from his father. "You believe that you can break a t'hy'la bond without consequences? A bond created over much distance without either meeting physically, yet able to sever another bond with a sound foundation?"

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Breaking the bond will give Spock a chance of survival. At the worse outcome, two casualties weighs less than putting all of Vulcan at risk."

"Three," Spock interrupted, standing up. He didn't have to look up to see the Vulcan frowns on their faces for his interruption. "If I do not survive or suffer perverse side effects, my father will have lost not only his bondmate, but his son as well. While not physical wounds, it is still detrimental on his being." He felt the corner of his lips tick upwards, and he was sure they had noticed. A large slip up in his mask, but for once he was not ashamed. Did not care. He had not been expected to survive infancy, and he was certain they did not expect him to come out unharmed from a broken bond, and the odds were against him in seeing Jim and saving his mother.

However, one thing he did learn from Jim was that sometimes, statistics did not matter. Jim made things work. Things that shouldn't work, did. To Jim, there was no such thing as a no-win scenario. Suddenly, Jim's response to the Kobayashi Maru made sense. If one set of rules do not work, try changing the rules. For what he was about to do, he was sure to make Jim proud.

"I thank you for listening to our request." Vulcans did not thank. "I am _regretful_ that the council is unable to help my mother, but I am _happy_ that you have considered it at such great lengths. " Vulcans did not show or express emotions.

Spock turned to leave, but the council member who he had interrupted, stood slightly in his chair. "No Vulcan has ever left our presence without our dismissal."

Spock turned slightly, that small smirk still present on his face. No human would have noticed besides Jim, but it was blaring to the Vulcans in the room. He should have said this the day he was accepted into the VSA. The human expression "better late than never" fit very well here. "Then it is a good thing that I am not fully Vulcan, so your reputation remains untarnished." And Vulcans sure as hell didn't show sass. He was about to turn when he stopped himself and said, "Live long and prosper." It was a damn good thing he was not entirely Vulcan.

Spock walked out with the entire high council and his father watching him as if he had lost his mind. He probably had. He regretted none of it as the doors to the chambers closed behind him.

T'Pau looked at the closed doors and if anyone had been looking, they would have seen the slip as fondness flashed across her features. It seemed that her grandson had picked up a useful human trait. He had finally learned to stand up for himself, and more importantly, fight back.

* * *

Jim rubbed his face, entering his apartment. It was quiet, so he knew Bones was not there. It was fine with him though. He didn't want to really see him at the moment. Every time he saw the physician, he was trying to psychoanalyze him, asking him if he was okay or how he was holding up. He hadn't told Bones what he'd been up to. Didn't tell him he was pretty much committing treason for what he was doing.

He froze when he realized he had reached out to put on his helmet. It had become so natural to come home every day and play Shikahr that is was practically second nature, but he couldn't play anymore. Not when Spock was supposedly getting ready to come to Earth. It was hard to believe that an alien race was only a few days away.

As he sat down, his communicator and PADD chimed simultaneously. His PADD was telling him Spock had responded to his last chess movie. Smiling, he leaned back into his desk chair and answered his communicator."This is new, Spock. To what do I owe this call?"

There was a pause. "I called to let you know that I am preparing to depart my home planet."

Jim took the moment to revel in hearing Spock talk to him in the real world. It was weird that Spock would call him considering he knew that the human keeping his mother hostage was paranoid, but Jim supposed that both he and Spock had stuck close enough to the truth that the admiral wouldn't get anything useful from them even if he listened in. Spock wouldn't change his behavior when he wasn't supposed to know that Jim had "betrayed" him. "I hope it wasn't too hard getting yourself a ship."

"I had requested for the high council's support; however, they refused," Spock stated matter of factly.

Jim blinked. "Wait, if they refused, how are you getting here?"

"I have commandeered my father's ship. I am currently inputting my course into the navigational computer, and familiarizing myself with the controls."

There was something off about what Spock had just said. Slowly, and cautiously he asked, "Spock . . . have you ever flown a ship before?"

Jim swore he could hear amusement when Spock replied with, "Theoretically."

"Are you out of your mind!" Jim screamed into the small device. "Theory and practice are two completely different things?"

" _Torektra vitor. Na'shaya, Kevet-dutar Sarek. Palikau torektra nisaklar. Nisaklar ovsoh. Svin shi-kethel . . . Shi-kethel klacha_ ," a robotic female voice came over the speaker.

"Spock, are you about to fucking launch?!"

"Yes, Jim."

The human groaned, covering his eyes. Obviously, it was a bit late to stop him now. "So what are you going to do? Your dad won't disown you or something will he?"

"He will most likely disapprove of my actions, but he will understand my logic behind it." Spock hesitated, and Jim knew what he wanted to ask. "How is my mother?"

"She's alive. A little banged up, but she's good. She can't wait to see you again."

"The sentiment is mutual. I will be arriving at the designated meeting point on schedule."

Jim listened to the soft rumble of the engines in the back ground. "That's good. I'll start putting my plan into action." Jim pulled up an email from Scotty. "I'll see you soon. Be careful."

"Goodbye, t'hy'la." Jim's cheeks warmed at the term. The way Spock had said it was warm, gentle, and affectionate. He still had no idea what the word meant, but he didn't want to ask, didn't want to ruin the moment. Spock cut the call.

Jim looked up at the ceiling, still rolling the term in his head. Something, somewhere in the back of his mind, warmed. The place where he swore he could sometimes feel Spock's presence. He closed his eyes, focusing on that feeling.

* * *

"Here's the forms for the Farragut." The young captain handed over the vanilla envelope to Pikes, standing at parade rest.

The clever older man realized why the sudden formality and informed him, "Don't worry son. I swept the office for bugs. and no one can see in. I did find some, but I reported it and made a huge commotion over it. He won't be able to plant them again for another day or so."

Jim relaxed but only marginally. "He doesn't completely trust me."

"Marcus doesn't trust anyone. Warmongers rarely do, so what do you want to ask."

"Nothing really. Just wondering if you'd help me out." Jim's eyes glanced conspicuously at Pike's keycard.

"No." Pike stated bluntly.

Jim didn't even flinch. "I haven't even asked what I wanted yet," he said evenly.

"I don't want to know. Plausible deniability." The older man leaned back in his chair. "That being said, I want you to send for someone to double check the lock for my office. I swear the things been acting up lately. Sometimes it randomly unlocks." He smiled. "I just forget all sorts of things now a days. Can I trust you to get that done?"

"Sure thing, sir. I'll send in the report. Will that be all?"

At the wave of dismissal, Jim grinned. It was almost too good to be true to run into Marcus in the hallway. He was probably watching him and seeing how long he was in the office for. Since he was the office for less than two minutes, there wasn't any time to really talk about anything. "Seeing Pike again, Kirk?"

"Just handed in all the forms I needed to sign off on for the Farragut trip. It took a while to read through all that."

Marcus smiled. "I can imagine."

Every part of Kirk's being wanted to slap that smile off his face. "Actually, it's perfect that I ran into you. I was hoping to ask her a few more questions if you don't mind."

"What kind of questions?" The suspicion was clear in his expression.

"One main question actually. It's about the ship, her son will be flying her. You can watch if you want." In fact, having the admiral watch would be perfect.

"Alright, son. I have some free time. You have five minutes with her. It's all I can allow."

"Five is enough. She's been cooperative so far."

The admiral nodded in agreement.

The trip to the underground holding facilities felt quick, but that might have been because Jim barely paid attention to his surroundings as he thought through his confrontation with Amanda. Hopefully Spock wouldn't kill him. Better yet. He hoped he never found out.

Before he knew it, he was entering the same interrogation room from before. Amanda looked to be in even worse shape, and he had difficulty shoving the anger down this time. His fists clenched, and he struggled to keep his face neutral. He had four minutes now.

"Jim, what do I owe this surprise?"

Her calm voice, pulled him out of his fantasy of stringing the bastard up by his toes. She was strong. He had to be the same. "Just a quick question for you Lady Amanda. How do we bypass the shields on your husband's ship. Better yet, how do we disable them."

The woman's face closed off, her eyes narrowing at Jim's profile. "Why do you need to know, Jim?"

"Because your son is coming, and I wish to give him a proper Terran greeting."

Jim didn't sit down. He walked around the room, casually and unthreatening, making his way behind her.

"Then I have nothing else to say to you," she looked straight ahead, her hands folded on the table.

Like lighting, Jim grabbed her by her brown locks and slammed her head to the metal table, making her cry out in pain. He kept her there as he leaned over her. "I think you should reconsider, Mrs. Grayson. Your cooperation could mean the difference between Spock coming into custody the easy way or the hard way, and I know for a fact a few guards are hoping he resists."

Her eyes teared with frustration. "Fuck you."

"I'm asking you. Do you want Spock to suffer more than necessary, or not?"

Amanda turned her head, hiding her face from view. "There is a security override that can make the shield generator reboot. It leaves the ship vulnerable. I'm not an engineer. It's all I can tell you," she spoke quietly and bitterly, her body shaking with tension at giving in and selling Spock out.

Jim released his grip on her hair and took a step away. "You cooperation is greatly appreciated," he said.

The door behind them opened as two men came in to escort her back to her cell. She stood up, still glaring at Jim as each man took up and elbow and escorted her out at gun point. Just before she was out of sight, the young captain watched as her fingers grazed over the slight unnoticeable bump in her right pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torektra vitor - Systems activated
> 
> Na'shaya, Kevet-dutar Sarek - Welcome, Ambassador Sarek
> 
> Palikau torektra nisaklar - Starting system diagnostics
> 
> Nisaklar ovsoh - Diagnostics complete
> 
> Svin shi-kethel - Input coordinates
> 
> Shi-kethel klacha - Coordinates entered


	14. Escape

Jim sat at his desk, watching his computer screen. Spock had already sent him his flight plans. It would only take four hours for him to get to earth. From there, he was to hide in the shadow of the moon and use its magnetic field, as weak as it is, to hide from Earth's sensors while he waited.

That was only if Jim didn't deliver before Spock had to drop out of warp. Seeing as there is a colony on the moon, it was preferable that he didn't have to try to hide. Before that however, Spock was to send him a signal when he was an hour out. His programs were already set up and could be activated by his PADD. Now, he just needed to wait.

At exactly 11:37, he got the signal. In response Jim synched his watch to the countdown. Everything was already in place, now it was time to move.

* * *

Amanda watched the ceiling from her cot, thinking about the device in her pocket. She hadn't dared to take it out to see it. Fortunately, she had a fairly good guess from the size and shape. She had only seen the device once, but she had never used it. She was guessing that she had to wait for a signal. She couldn't read the note Jim had put in her pocket to find out.

Jim's acting had been superb. She had been fooled up to the point he slid the object into her pocket. It was then she realized that Jim really needed the answer to the question. Jim wouldn't risk asking her such a question unless he was positive he could make use of it before they could turn it against them.

So she was waiting, wondering what sign he would give her.

As if on cue, the lights surged. In any normal circumstance, it would go unnoticed, but this was a Starfleet holding facility. Things like that didn't happen.

Smiling, she pulled out the small, black rectangular device. Getting off the cot, she uncapped the device and placed it as close to the control panel as she could manage before activating it.

The force field flickered a few times and then deactivated. Perfect.

Tentatively, she stepped out of the cell. She went to the door leading to the room and used the same device that short circuited the force field on the lock for the door. It took longer, but it did eventually override the system.

She peered out into the hallway. She didn't hear anything which was strange. There should have been people watching the outside of the door if not in the room with her. Either the guards not being at their post was a good or bad thing. She was strongly hoping Jim had done something. Pulling out the note from her pocket, she glanced over it. He wanted her to head toward the exit. If he didn't meet her, she was to go to the transporter room. Sounded simple enough.

She stepped out into the hallway and headed to the exit, trying to stay out of the line of sight of the cameras as much as possible. Not that it seemed to matter. She hadn't seen or heard anyone. Granted it was the night shift, and there were fewer people in the facility at this time of day but not to see a single person?

She didn't see guards until she turned the corner right before the exit. She stumbled, eyes wide as they stared at each other for a moment. Simultaneously both guards reached for their phasers on their belts.

She tried to change directions and go back around the corner. The sounds of a phaser went off, followed by two thumps.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked, standing over the two crumpled forms of the guards. His face was red from exertion, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah. Just in time."

"Good." He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the exit. "It took a little longer than I hoped to hack into the system. Spock will drop out of warp in fifteen minutes. We're hoping to get you on that ship before he has to."

"Where are the guards?" She asked. Jim came to a stop, pulling out a keycard to access the turbo lift, looking around anxiously.

"I forced a computer to overheat and start a fire in the labs, then locked them in that sector. It's small enough for the sprinklers to handle. The others, I sent false orders to and sent them to the other side of the complex. Any others I stunned." The door opened.

Both officers entered the turbolift. "Jim . . . your career."

The comment hit a nerve and he winced. "I'm doing what's right. Starting a war against a race more technologically advanced than ours will only make things worse, and I don't agree with what Marcus did to you. If that means I have to give up my captain's seat. . . so be it."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, making Jim look at the small woman beside him. She graced him with a smile and said, "If you ever need a place, you have a place with my son. And Sarek and I will be happy to have you be a part of the family."

"I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Grayson, but I don't run from my problems." He looked straight ahead at the doors, waiting for them to open.

Jim's PADD chimed and he cursed under his breath as the doors opened. "Let's go. It looks like they've overrided my program. They'll figure out you escaped soon."

He led them down the corridor into the transporter room. He had five minutes. It should be plenty of time. "Get on the transport pad. As long as Spock's in warp, his shields will be down."

Jim entered Scotty's transwarp beaming equation in the console. He really, really, really hoped this worked. If he accidentally killed Amanda…he didn't want to go there. He checked and rechecked the equation, making sure he imputed it right.

The proximity alarm on his PADD beeped. It was now or never. "Say hi to Spock for me."

She smiled. "I will. Thank you."

Jim activated the transport PADD watching as she disappeared in swirling white lights. He was just in time as Marcus and two other guards entered the room. Jim didn't even hesitate. He backed away from the console with his hands in the air.

The guards wasted no time subduing him, bringing his arms behind his back and cuffing him.

"Take him to a holding cell. I'll be there shortly," Marcus glared.

Jim didn't even bat an eye at Marcus as he was marched forward. No matter what Marcus did with the transporter console, he wouldn't be able to track where Amanda was beamed too. Even if he did, there was no way he could understand Scotty's equation without the Scott himself and there was no destination without Spock's new flight path. He had won.

The cell they had taken him too was high security. It was no surprise, but he never thought he would be here, at least not on this side of the force field. They had deposited him in the cell and took up positions on either side of the doorway. No doubt Marcus had already chewed their ass out for letting the previous prisoner escape.

It was about an hour before Marcus finally showed up. Jim had made himself comfortable, not even looking the slightest bit worried. He was currently eating an apple he had brought with him in case he did get captured. He knew it would make him look more like a smug asshole and piss Marcus off.

"Did you really think you wouldn't get caught, son?"

Jim shrugged. "I figured there was a 50-50 shot."

"You threw away your career and for what?! You betrayed the Federation. You could have doomed us all Kirk for an alien you never even met. Who lied to you the moment he met you. You trusted that over the service you swore to protect," Marcus was red in the face with anger.

Jim stared at him, leaning forward on his cot. Then he stood, walking over slowly. "He never lied to me. He never said he was human. He never said anything that wasn't true." He stopped right in front of him and took another loud obnoxious bite of his apple. "Secondly, you underestimated us. You never considered that we had formed a bond, that we had already gone through trials of betrayal and trust."

"Sentimental attachment makes you weak," Marcus spat.

"Marcus, you'd sell out your own daughter if you thought there was even the slightest possibility she was acquainted with someone who might know someone else who may or may not be a terrorist." Jim smirked. "You are right, I never met this guy in real life. Yet somehow, I still managed to pull one over you with him as if we worked together for years despite having all my stuff bugged. I think that means something, don't you."

"You'll never work in Starfleet again, Kirk. I'll make sure of it." Marcus was positively fuming.

Jim took a step closer, just a hair from touching the force field. "And you know what? I'm okay with that. A career isn't everything."

If Jim didn't know better, he was sure that Marcus wanted to scream blasphemy at his last statement. Well it could have been what he wanted to say, but Pike entered the room drawing both of their attention.

"Admiral Marcus, your presence is needed in the Federation Council Chambers." To Pike's credit, he didn't even spare Kirk a glance, which Jim was grateful for.

"I'm busy, _Captain_." Marcus turned to face Pike with as much suspicion as he had held for Jim.

"It's orders from the commodore. There is an unidentified ship in orbit asking for a meeting with our government. An Ambassador Sarek from Vulcan. It appears that an unknown alien race wishes to meet with us."

Jim had to bite his lip from laughing. So it looked like Sarek got impatient too. Or maybe he didn't want Spock to chance a rescue mission alone. Either way, it looks like Earth would soon know for sure that they were not alone in the universe come the morning. "You should hurry Admiral. Looks like you're wanted."

The admiral sent him a glare. "This isn't over Kirk."

Jim just shrugged. "It is for me." The blatant dismissal made Pike smile and Marcus about to blow a gasket.

"Admiral, we were due in the council room five minutes ago."

"I heard you Pike," he snarled, turning on his heel. Pike followed him out, leaving Jim alone.

* * *

The council room was large. A panel of seven council members were seated around a circular table. There was also the top ranking admirals and (for some reason) Captain Pike, totaling a number of 22 humans around the table. In front of them sat Sarek, looking calm yet intimidating with his expressionless face. Two equally expressionless guards, dressed in silver armor, stood at parade rest behind him.

Marcus recognized him from the videos but could say nothing as that would have revealed he was keeping something from the Federation. Pike on the other hand was not intimidated, but he was curious about the ambassador. Jim was quite accurate about the description. All three had the dark hair and slanted eyebrows, and the green tinge wasn't even noticeable until someone brought attention to it. What wasn't mentioned was the blank faces. That seemed important.

Sarek seemed more intimidating when he first appeared on the transporter PADD and refused to shake hands with his escort. Even more so when he brushed off shaking the council or admirals hands. "Vulcans are touch telepaths. We avoid skin to skin contact with others when it is possible," he had explained.

Pike had the distinct feeling that the ambassador was pissed. He couldn't really tell with the poker face they seemed to wear, but Jim did say his wife had been captured and tortured. The fact he wasn't ranting and raving and trying to start a war was impressive.

The council members then decided that he should sit closest to the ambassador. Jim must have mentioned him because Sarek only shook his hand upon meeting, showing that the ambassador did in fact know their customs and that Pike was the only one he was willing to extend the gesture to.

The meeting opened with Sarek giving a brief report about his planet and his people. How they restrain emotion in favor of logic and are a peaceful race. He also admitted that his son had created the game ShiKahr to study humans and see if they were ready for first contact. He was thorough in his explanation, and it was purely factual.

"So I take it that human's have passed the test your son gave us?" Admiral Barnett asked.

"No. My wife, who you know as Amanda Grayson, was captured and tortured when it was discovered she was not native to Earth. As I am telepathically connected to my wife, I was able to feel her suffering." All the humans in the room shifted uncomfortably.

"However, I have discovered a very interesting human that both my son and wife have taken an interest in. His name is James Tiberius Kirk." He paused, noting the varying emotions on the human faces before him, recognizing, surprise on some, confusion on others, and disbelief for the rest. "You know this human."

"Kirk is a cadet at the academy here in training to be captain for one of our starships," Pike spoke before someone else could, earning himself a few pointed glares. He was supposed to be sitting in quietly, but he wasn't going to ignore what his gut was telling him. If someone said something bad about Jim, he had a feeling negotiations would break down. "He's known to be a bit of a trouble maker, but he is our brightest and most promising cadet."

"Do you know this man personally?" Sarek asked.

"I recruited him. I had this strange idea to try to get that rebel out of him and make him follow orders. It seems my logic failed me on that one," he tried for a joke.

The tightness around the ambassador's eyes lessened just slightly. "I often have the same problem with my son."

Pike smiled.

"I met James in ShiKahr. He is an . . . interesting individual. He informed me that I was an asshole." Sarek watched the humans squirm. "Does anyone know the definition of this term?"

No one was willing to come forward with the explanation. Pike was betting that the ambassador was fucking with them on purpose.

Sarek continued, sparing the humans from their discomfort. "James taught my son much of human culture and supplied us with insight as to why humans reacted so violently to learning the true nature of my wife. He helped to recover my wife as soon as he learned of what had become of her. Without these actions, we would not have made contact. If James is a representative of the human race, then I am willing to overlook the crimes against my wife."

Apparently, Marcus had enough of staying silent. "I'm sorry Ambassador. I have a hard time believing you truly mean to contact us with peaceful intentions."

Sarek raised a brow which made everyone in the room freeze. It was the most movement on his face since he entered the room. "I do not understand."

"It is a bit too much of a coincidence that you decide to confront us immediately after being caught red handed that you gave us the technology and when your wife escaped custody an hour before your call."

A few of the other admiral nodded in agreement while a few, like Pike, glared at him.

"Interesting for you to doubt my peaceful intentions when I was informed that an admiral, though I am not aware of the name, instructed a subordinate to lure my son to Earth so he may be captured and interrogated as well."

"I'm sure that admiral had very good rea─"

"Would you be that admiral, Admiral Marcus?" Sarek may have phrased it like a question, but it sounded like the Vulcan was certain of it.

"Now hold on a min─"

Sarek was having none of it. "If Vulcan had indeed wished to cause Earth harm, we would have done it 303 years ago when we first encountered your planet. From our information, your race had yet to escape the atmosphere of your planet. We decided to not disturb you and allowed you to continue to develop at your own pace."

It was not lost on the humans on how the Vulcan had phrased it. That it was the Vulcans' decision to let them live. That they had allowed them to be left alone, making it perfectly clear that if their intentions had been different, they could have attacked and conquered the inferior race. Pike really liked this guy.

"Is that a threat ambassador?" Marcus gritted his teeth.

"I am merely stating what is," Sarek replied calmly. "I still hold reservations for negotiations and creating a peace treaty."

"I perfectly understand your reservations, Ambassador," Councilman Johansson spoke up from the opposite end of the table. "And I apologize for the poor treatment of your family. The council had no idea this was going on. If you would be agreeable to meet again in the morning, we'll try to have more answers for you and give us time to get on our feet. As you can imagine, your presence here is a large shock to us."

"I am amendable to the suggestion." Sarek agreed, but his eyes were still locked on Marcus.

"If you wouldn't mind telling our security chief everything you know about what happened to your wife before you head back to your ship?"

"I already have a report written up by my son who is more knowledgeable about the events that has transpired. I am certain my wife added her own touches as well."

The councilman nodded. "Then we will see you at 0900 hours." The councilman paused as if considering if he should explain how time worked on their planet, but Sarek assured him he knew what he meant.

Sarek left first, followed by his guards.

Christopher Pike snuck out of the room as soon as he could before the political talks could start. It would be foolish to try to double cross the Vulcans. They may have been pacifists, but he didn't think they would just roll over for them either if Sarek's attitude had anything to do with it.

He checked on Jim one last time while Marcus was busy and exchanged a few words with him. Afterwards, he was itching for some sleep when he saw the ambassador standing just outside the building, waiting for him without his escort as he walked straight towards him upon seeing him. "Captain Pike. May I speak with you?"

"I don't see why not. I warn you though, Ambassador, I'm not good at prancing around words."

Sarek blinked at him. "I do not understand how one can "prance" around intangible objects."

Pike wasn't sure if he was kidding or not

"I wish to inquire about the status of Mr. Kirk. My family owes him much, and I am aware that he has forfeited his current life in exchange."

"He didn't die, Ambassador, don't be so serious." Sarek didn't seem to understand or chose to ignore his words. "It's not looking to good for him. Jim has been charged with espionage, disrespect to a superior officer, assaulting a Starfleet officer, aiding a prisoner's escape, arson, hacking into the Starfleet computers, and impersonating a superior officer and delivering false orders. I'm sure some will be dismissed because he was helping your wife, but in the end he did go against direct orders and against Starfleet."

"It is unfortunate that he is to take the fault for another misgivings."

Pike nodded in agreement. "I'll do my best to get him off. The kid has promise. Hopefully I can make the other's see that too."

"I will also offer my support in his release," the ambassador said. "I would also inquire, on behalf of my son, if he may visit James."

Pike smiled sadly, "I would pull strings for you, Ambassador," Sarek raised an eyebrow at the metaphor, "but Jim told me he wasn't ready to see him. Not yet."

"I see," he said tightly.

"I'm sure he wants to see your son," the human said quickly, hoping he didn't fuck something up somehow, "he just needs some time to wrap his head around everything."

"I understand. I will inform my son. Thank you for your assistance." Sarek left, leaving Pike wondering what exactly was the relationship between the Ambassador's son and Jim.

* * *

Spock waited by the transporter pad, fighting the urge to pace. While his father's presence in the sol system was a surprise, it wasn't an unwelcomed one. He had questions, ones that he had shoved aside as he helped his mother attend to her injuries and helped her to bed. He was angry at the person who had done this to her, but he was relieved to have her back. He was hesitant to reestablish the parental bond. While he could see her, a part of his mind kept insisting she was dead. The place where her bond used to be still ached.

However, he did not require the bond. A parental bond helped bring a child and parent closer together as well as helped the child relay their needs and give them an anchor amongst the struggles of learning to control their telepathy and emotions. It provided a constant amidst a bombardment of emotions from the living things around them and their own mind. Spock was now an adult and such an anchor was no longer needed, especially with his t'hy'la bond to serve as the anchor and constant. He had decided to leave the bond broken unless his mother insisted.

It was hard to restrain himself from asking his father questions upon his arrival. He kept his control and discipline when his father materialized onto the ambassador's vessel. The official one used to transport ambassadors. "Father," he greeted.

"Spock. How is your mother?" Spock's expression softened somewhat, knowing his father could not slip in front of the escort. His own reputation could not be damaged much more considering everyone knew of his words in the high council's chambers. He could afford to for a brief moment.

"She is resting. She appears to be physically and mentally fatigued but has sustained no lasting damage. She wishes to see you."

Sarek said nothing, though Spock knew his father had heard. He would want to strengthen their weakened bond. The same thing Spock instinctively wanted to do every time he thought of Jim.

"Did the meeting with the human government go well?"

Sensing what Spock really wanted to ask, Sarek replied, "Jim has been placed in confinement but unharmed. He faces criminal charges, though it is unlikely he will suffer significant loss. He does not wish to be seen at this time."

Spock felt the tightness in his chest relinquish some of its hold. Jim was okay. "I see." He moved to the side so his father could exit the room and get to his bondmate. He wished he could do the same.

Spock left to go to the observation deck. So where did he go from here? He knew how it would play out. His father was the best ambassador in this sector. He would get the negotiations to go the way he want and find a way to make the man responsible for this pay, but what about him? He couldn't go back to the Vulcan Science Academy. He didn't want to go back. It was a shame about the experiments, that he would be forced to abandon them, but he deserved better, to be treated better. He understood that now. He should be with people who did more than tolerate his existence. He should be with Jim.

He was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear the approaching footsteps or the door hiss open. The soft, warm hand on his shoulder pulled him back from his thoughts.

He turned to look at his mother. She looked tired, but like any good mother, she knew when he was in turmoil. She smiled at him then asked, "Have you ever heard of Starfleet Academy?"


	15. Epilogue

Spock placed another carefully folded, hand knitted sweater into his bag. With one last quick glance around the room, he zipped up the bag, and slung it over his shoulder. He looked one last time around the small apartment. It was the last time he was ever going to see it. There was no sense for nostalgia, he was finally going to be where he had been striving for, but this had been his home for nearly a year and half now.

“Spock are you ready?” Amanda peeked into the room. She was back to her usual self, healthy and bright, though occasionally, Spock saw shadows hidden behind her smile. It angered him every time he saw it, but she was happy living on Earth, putting together the new curriculum to be used in schools to teach human children about alien species. It wasn’t easy. Like all species, there were xenophobes, especially since the confirmation of alien life was still new, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“I have just finished packing, Mother. Has Father’s meeting concluded?”

She nodded frowning. “He wanted to stay longer to ensure your transfer went smoothly. If it wasn’t for the fact you were going on that ship, I’m sure Sarek would have joined you for the first month as well.”

“Exaggeration is not needed. I assume he will be attending the banquet.”

She nodded, stepping into full view. She wore Vulcan garbs, despite being on Earth, acting the part of the Vulcan ambassador’s wife even though she preferred human clothing which annoyed his father to no end. Sarek found human clothing to show too much skin. Amanda had taken it upon herself to see how far she could push Sarek and his struggling jealousy. The limit had been when Uhura had taken them to the beach, and Amanda came out in a bikini. Sarek turned an interesting shade of green when a few human males gave her cat calls as she walked by. He then proceeded to drag his wife into the nearest store to find her a coverall. Amanda laughed so hard, Spock had feared she would fall unconscious for the lack of oxygen entering her bloodstream.

He was sure that Earth reminded his mother of her own home before it had died in a supernova from a nearby star. She felt comfortable here, and with Sarek being so busy helping the humans prepare for their journey into the great beyond, she found a life here as well. She was a reserve officer for Starfleet and pursued her love of teaching. Now she and Sarek were trying to set up a new system, an alliance of alien worlds. Pike had suggested the idea, and the Vulcans had found it an interesting concept. So a new Federation was being formed, one with council members of each race, and Starfleet was moving away from being a military to an exploratory faction.

The launch of the _Enterprise_ had been delayed as a result. A few Vulcan scientists helped improve the ships computers, navigations, science laboratories, and medical bay, and someone had improved the warp functions that had been iffy at best. While the ship underwent renovation, the crew selected for the _Enterprise_ had a crash course in alien customs, known alien races, new available technology, and in the CMO’s case, xenobiology.

“Has the Farragut returned?” Spock found himself asking, though he promised himself he wouldn’t.

Amanda’s eyes softened. “Yes. It returned last night. The crew will be attending along with the senior bridge officers for the _Enterprise_. . . Has he contacted you?”

“No.” The last time Jim had made contact was when he sent Spock a letter from his jail cell, saying he needed time apart. He wanted to be certain whatever they had was real. He hadn’t heard from him since. Spock was careful to avoid seeing any picture or reference of him. He had wanted to find out for himself, now he wasn’t so sure. He was beginning to think Jim had forgotten him. Humans did not have very good memories after all. The only hope he dared cling to was that Jim had said that the next time they meet, he’d let Spock know his decision. Soon after that, he had left for space under the command of Admiral Christopher Pike.

Eventually, the already weak bond, without mental or physical contact weakened to the point he could barely feel Jim’s presence. Occasionally, he would feel love on the other end, but even that was muted now. A few more months and the bond would no longer be able to sustain itself.

“I’m sorry, Spock. I had thought . . . will you be okay?”

“I will be fine, Mother. It was not meant to be.”

She cupped his face in her hands, looking lost at what she could do for him. She had admitted a few months prior that she had been afraid of this happening, and she had wanted to spare him the heartache. Spock carefully grabbed her hands to remove them from his person. “I am adequate, Mother. Please, do not fret. Seeing Jim tonight will not change what will be.”

She wanted to argue. Spock could see it in her eyes. Instead, she let out an agitated breath. “Let’s go. We’ll be late if we don’t leave early.”

Spock locked up his apartment for the last time and dropped the key off at the main office and signed off the lease.

“Did T’Pring upload the update?”

Spock glanced at his mother. “You should be better informed than I on the subject, but I do believe she updated last night.”

After Spock had left Vulcan, he had handed control over _Shikahr_ to T’Pring. While it was no longer a social experiment, it still served as the most popular Terran video game. In fact, it was more popular than ever since the release of information on the game. Spock had released a book a year ago detailing the different alien cultures, races, and references present throughout the game, allowing players to see it in a different light. It was as much as a interactive learning simulation as it was a recreational device.

Spock himself hadn’t entered the game since the incident, while Amanda still played on occasion to keep her stats up. Somehow she managed to drag her husband in it to play as well. She called Sarek a closet nerd since she caught him on a forum debating about the best strategy to level up with minimal time and energy. Spock tried really hard not to think about his father in a game setting. It was too much of an anomaly to even consider it in the realm of reality.

She got a dazed off look in her eye which Spock did not ask about. He didn’t want to know. The last time he asked, he regretted. While he was aware his parents had sex, he did not want to hear details, virtual or not.

“How did your tests go by the way?” Amanda asked, getting into the hover car.

“It went as expected. If Admiral Pike was correct, the position is mine if I chose to accept it.” Spock took the passenger seat, resting the bag into his lap.

She frowned at the bag. “Is that all you’re taking?”

“My other belongings have been transported to my new quarters. There is not much I wish to take with me at this time.”

She accepted his answer, pulling out of the parking spot.

* * *

 

Spock stood in the corner as much as he could. The hotel ballroom the event was being held in was grand. Too grand for Spock’s tastes with needless embellishments decorating the walls and ceilings on top of the painted ceilings and decorative wall paper. There were also statues and grand chandeliers. It was too much and too distracting. Then there were the white clothed tables and the orchestra to “add” to the elegance. The humans were trying to impress. Instead, it was just overwhelming.

Spock took refuge near the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the bay with large, red curtains framing them. It kept him removed from most of the action, but still gave him the ability to oversee everything. No Vulcan would be comfortable with the crowd and relatively busy atmosphere. His father talked to the other delegates, used to such atmospheres in his years as an ambassador. He didn’t even seem to take notice.

A few people came up to speak to him. He politely greeted them, doing his best to uphold his father’s image, engaging in small talk when he was forced to. It was surprisingly draining as he had his attention divided between the people he was speaking to and scanning the room.

“Spock, it is nice to see you again.”

Spock turned to the voice, relieved to see a familiar face and gave him an excuse to politely dismiss the delegate who seemed overly interested in him. “Admiral Pike.”

“I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.” The admiral was dressed in his dress uniform, grinning ear to ear.

“My mother insisted I come to support my father.” Spock kept his tense posture, his eyes once again scanning the room.

“That’s awfully kind of you. Though, just between you and me, your father scares the other admirals shitless. Ever since he cut Marcus down to size, they’re afraid to be alone with him,” Pike laughed heartily. “I thought Marcus was going to piss himself when your dad was done. The other admirals are still afraid to be alone with him, public place or not.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “How is the lieutenant doing?”

Pike shrugged, but his eyes looked like he was restraining another laugh. “Lieutenant Marcus is a hair away from resigning I think. Jim has been running him ragged, giving him all the demeaning jobs meant for ensigns.”

“Perhaps it would be best for him to resign. It would be an insignificant loss.”

“I agree.” The older man took a sip of his drink. “By the way, congratulations on passing your exams. I was surprised you gave up on the VSA. I saw the curriculum there. It’s nothing compared to here.”

“I felt that serving as a science officer on a starship would be better use of my skills and assets. It affords me an opportunity of studying unknown planets and encountering new experiences.” Spock answered, scanning the room again.

“True, but it must make you a bit nervous.”

“Vulcan’s do not get nervous,” was his automatic reply. “My position on a starship will encourage other species to join Starfleet as well.”

“You’ll still be the only alien though,” the human pointed out. “Stuck with us irrational humans.”

Spock looked back at Pike at the last statement. It sounded something Doctor Horatio would say.

“I am sure I can suffer through it in the pursuit of knowledge.”

Pike laughed at that. The human was not fooled by the blank face. He knew Spock had a sense of humor. Because he had been on the Vulcans’ good side, he had time to actually see past the exterior. Most humans had not gotten that far. Most seemed content in believing they were emotionless.

“I’m sure the crew will appreciate that.” Spock was too busy scanning the crowd again to reply. “Looking for someone?”

Spock looked back, straightening his posture. “No one of any signifi─,” and that was when he saw him. On the other side of the room, standing near the refreshment table, he caught sight of short wheat blonde hair and heard a familiar laugh. He could not see his face, his back turned and his shoulders clad with the grey dress uniform of Starfleet officers, but he knew it was him.

Pike followed his line of sight, instantly catching onto who he was staring at. “You two were more than just friends, weren’t you?”

Spock did not reply. He just stared. He wanted to go to him, yet he could not bring himself to. He wanted to know, but too afraid to know. What was going to be his reply?

“Why don’t I introduce you to him?” Pike offered.

With a glance, he quietly accepted his offer.

The admiral walked over with him, crossing the room. To Spock, the short distance felt like an eternity and a blink of an eye. Then he was standing mere feet away, the delegates surrounding Kirk, parting just enough to give them room.

“Kirk, I’d like you to meet your new First Officer and Science Officer.”

“Really? I didn’t get a memo about that yet.” Kirk seemed to turn around in slow motion. He was different than he was in _Shikahr_. He was about five and a half centimeters shorter in real life, his skin wasn’t as bronze nor was he as slender as a swordsmen with the lithe muscles to match. He didn’t have the video game perfection, but his eyes were an even more vivid blue that drew Spock in with just a glance. Spock preferred this version better. This was Jim. His Jim, no matter what the human decided.

There was no recognition in the human’s eyes as he looked upon Spock. “You must be Mr. Spock. I heard the rumors about someone beating my test scores,” the man said.

The lack of recognition, hurt. He knew it was a possibility, but he had hoped he was wrong. “Indeed, Captain Kirk. I have finally had a chance to meet you. Sarlah nash-veh dvin-tor. I have come to serve,” Spock responded stiffly, giving the most formal greeting he could think of in a quick effort to distance himself.

Kirk smiled and said in return, “Vu dvin dor etwel. Your service honors us.” Kirk extended two fingers towards him. Spock’s heart stopped.

An admiral cleared his throat beside Kirk and said in a particularly loud, disapproving whisper, “Excuse me Captain, but Vulcan’s do not care for touching, especially the ha─”

Spock reached out, matching the gesture. He felt the bond expand and brighten, and the need to touch, to have, ravaged his body and mind, aching to complete the bond after so long, and he felt Kirk’s love and admiration flow through him, along with apologies. He caught glimpses of thoughts, of admirals telling Jim that he had to stay away to make the transition easier, to keep his involvement in Amanda’s rescue as close to the down low as possible, and he felt the heartache and longing the human had pushed aside as he was forced to leave . He felt the joy at hearing Spock had join Starfleet and the hope that Spock would join him on his ship even if they had to hide their relationship.

“Taluhk nash-veh k’dular.” Spock felt himself compelled to say. He saw the way Jim’s pupil’s dialated, lust hidden in his blue depths along with love as Jim struggled to keep his reaction contained.

“Ashau nash-veh k’dular, t’hy’la.” Kirk said unabashed as if he didn’t just make a very direct declaration of love.

Spock had to fight down a blush as his father was standing a few feet away along with a few other Vulcans who knew what the gesture meant and what the bold words Jim had spoken with much emotion. The humans present were just plan confused, unknowing of either gesture or words, except for Uhura who looked about to squeal , take a holo or both.

“Kash-nohv . . . Ishtau nash-veh ovsoh tel-etek.”

“Sep-wafikh nash-veh. Po-hohnaya. Ha-shal t’nash-veh?”

“Ha.” Spock was surprised he managed to fight the blush, knowing that several Vulcan’s in the room knew what he was planning to do later that night. He also knew they would not say anything and tell the other humans. Some things the humans just didn’t need to know.

Jim’s smile widened at Spock’s answer. “It will be a pleasure to have you aboard the _Enterprise,_ Mr. Spock.”

“I believe I agree with the sentiment, Captain. If I may request one thing however.”

Jim looked quite curious as well as amused as he asked, “And what is that, Commander?”

“If you would please refrain from using Vulcan from now on. Your accent has yet to be desired.”

Spock felt content as he watched his bondmate laugh. He had missed the sound in his absence. “I won’t make any promises.” His eyes met his, as playful and mischievous as Spock had remembered them. They promised adventure, friendships, and love for the years that would come as Jim’s friends surrounded him. He recognized Horatio’s scowl, the Scott’s loud accent, the dark skinned beauty’s grace, and Fencing Nut’s smile. Jim’s friends who were going to become his own friends and his new family.

Jim beamed with pride as his friends started questioning Spock. The Vulcan had barely heard his bondmate say, “Welcome aboard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taluhk nash-veh k’dular- I cherish thee.  
> Ashau nash-veh k’dular, t’hy’la - I love thee, t'hy'la  
> Kash-nohv . . . Ishtau nash-veh ovsoh tel-etek - A mind meld...I wish to complete our bond  
> Sep-wafikh nash-veh. Po-hohnaya. Ha-shal t’nash-veh? - I agree. After the party. My room?  
> Ha - Yes
> 
> So here's the end. I can now focus on school, I mean cardinal rule ...


End file.
